


Something More Original

by mr_mustache_penis



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Back At It Again With The High School AU, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Established shallura, F/M, Keith centric, Lance (Voltron) has ADHD and Dyslexia, Lance has two moms, M/M, Nerd Keith, PINING KEITH, Pidge and Keith Are BFFS, Pidge is ace, This is Basically Like a 80s/90s movie, except gay, jock lance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 44,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_mustache_penis/pseuds/mr_mustache_penis
Summary: Keith was always jealous of Lance "McPerfect" McClain, the jock and star student of Arus High.But when circumstances reveal Lance isn't as perfect as seems, Lance tries to help Keith get what he always wanted: popularity.Will Keith like his new popularity, or will he lose himself?





	1. On My Own

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a new fic I'm starting, and I'm really in love with it. All experiences Lance has with ADHD derives from my own personal life, but if anything seems out of place just let me know. Enjoy!

Keith was always jealous of Lance McClain. It was just a fact, like the sky being blue, or grass being green. Keith was jealous of the boy with perfect brown skin and gorgeous smile and the seemingly effortless perfect grades. Lance McClain was everything Keith could ever want to be. Keith would never be bold enough to ask him what his secret was, considering they hardly ever crossed paths in the past two years. It was a new year, however, and it was bound to be full of surprises. Like this one:

It had only been a month into his junior year and he was already the top of his precalculus class. That surprised him, considering Lance’s track record. What surprised him even more was when his teacher cornered him after school on day to ask him to tutor a student.

“He’s been struggling for the past few weeks, and I know that’s not like him at all, but would you mind helping him?” asked Mr. Shada.

“Sure, I don’t mind,” said Keith. How hard could it possibly be?

“He’s waiting in the library. Thank you so much Keith. I’ll be sure to give you extra participation points.” The teacher left, leaving Keith standing awkwardly in the hallway by himself.

_I have to start today? That’s just spectacular._

Keith made his way to the library, bracing himself for the inevitable “Who the fuck are you?” It wasn’t that Keith hadn’t tried to stand out, but in the sea of colors that was his Ohio high school he blended in with the background. Just your average sad looking emo boy with long black hair and dark eyes. That description wasn’t even accurate. Sure he looked brooding and sad but he was funny, he laughed a lot, he even had a kitten at home. He just didn’t know how to present himself any other way. The only person at this school that knew that was his friend Pidge. They bonded over their own personal loses when they first met, and decided to stick together through this cesspool of hormonal development. She was all he really needed, like the sister his mother never had the chance to give him.

Keith pushed through the large wooden doors of the library, which was usually closed but stayed open for after school tutoring at the request of a teacher. He made his way through the tall shelves lined with books that no one here really read to that back tables where tutoring was usually held. He looked around for the person he could possibly be tutoring, but he only saw Lance McClain, and his perfect dumb face and blue and white letterman jacket. Lance looked up to see him, and smiled, waving him over. Lance McClain was waving at him. Lance McPerfect McClain. What the cheese?

Keith made his way over to the table, albeit hesitantly, wondering if the universe was playing a sick joke on him. When did Lance ever need help with anything? Whatever, he was here and he needed to do this. Suck it up Kogane.

“Hey, you’re Keith, right?” Lance asked, shooting him one of his blinding white smiles.

Keith recoiled. Lance knew his name? His heart just stopped. Was this was honest to god shock felt like?

“Yeah, I’m right, all Keith. I mean- I’m Keith alright.” _Oh, you fucking noodle._ “You know my name?” he asked, sitting next to him.

“Of course I do, you’re one of the top people in our class! I feel like we’re competing with each other!” Lance laughed, and Keith hated it.

 _Compete, yeah that’s pretty funny_ , Keith thought bitterly.

“I don’t know, you have it pretty easy,” said Keith offhandedly, pulling out his books. He expected Lance to laugh, it was all good fun, right?

“What makes you think I have it easy?” His smile dropped, and Keith froze.

“I mean, like, not in a bad way. You’re just kinda perfect,” Keith stuttered, wondering why in the hell he was telling him this.

“I’m not perfect. You have no idea,” Lance muttered.

Keith just stared like a deer in the headlights. Should he be panicking? Did he really fuck up?

“So, about this quadratic formula…”

“You know what? Thanks, but no thanks. I’ll do this by myself.” Lance stood abruptly, and gathered his things, storming off.

Keith watched him leave, cursing himself.

Just fantastic.

 

“You know, jealousy isn’t a very professional emotion,” said Pidge the next day at their lockers. Pidge had a Molly Ringwald thing going on today, wearing a long mint colored flowy skirt and green cardigan over white tank, and her short hair falling naturally over her forehead. She leaned against her already closed locker, waiting for Keith to get his books.

“Okay, Ms. I Never Get Jealous.” Keith grabbed his last textbook and shoved it into his black satchel.

“I don’t, because I’m confident. You should be too, Keith!” She slugged him on the shoulder. “I don’t understand why you said anything in the first place.”

“It just slipped out, Katie!” He groaned, calling her by her real name, which he only did when he was frustrated. “I’ve never thought I’d see the great Lance McClain failing at something.”

“You know, he’s human too. Maybe he wanted help without judgement.”

She was right. Of course she was right. Dammit.

“I guess I should apologize, then.” Keith pouted. He hated when Pidge was right.

“You’ll see him next period. I think that’s the perfect time.” She smiled supportively, and he mirrored her, trying to be positive. He wasn’t sure Lance would even listen to his apology. He would probably send some of his track friends after him. Was Lance a bully? Popular kids usually were. So Keith came to the conclusion that he was screwed either way, and accepted his fate.

As he walked in to his math class, he looked around for Lance, hoping him and a group of jocks weren’t already there to ruffle his jimmies.

_Ruffle my jimmies? What am I, seventy?_

Instead of the worst possible scenario, Keith saw Lance sitting up front, and when he glanced up at Keith, he smiled.

 _Oh god, I’m dead. Who will feed Barry?_ Keith thought, his mind immediately going to his little ginger cat. Pidge didn’t have animal skills, and Shiro was never home. Poor Barry.

Keith sat in his seat near the back, doing his best to avoid Lance’s aisle all together. He found it hard to pay attention, as he stole glances at Lance. His brown hair looked extra fluffy today. Oh, that perfect motherfucker.

The bell rung, and Keith let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He made sure Lance left first, getting up from his seat only when he saw him go through the doorway. Keith walked up to the front of the class, trying to speed to his next period, but Mr. Shada stopped him.

“Look, Mr. Shada, I’m sorry-”

“Why are you sorry? Lance said the tutoring session went great! He’ll be at the library after school again, if that’s okay?” asked Mr. Shada hesitantly, as if Keith had a social life worth interrupting.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Keith said, as he internally screamed.

“Keep up the good work.”

“Sure will.” Keith left the classroom, walking into the crowded hall.

_I’m going to be murdered._

 

“He is not going to kill you,” Pidge told Keith sensibly. They stood in front of the library, discussing a plan of action. Well, Pidge stood, while Keith paced back and forth frantically.

“I basically insulted him, Katie! He’s probably in there, right now, with some other jocks and they are going to beat me into an inch of my life.” Keith whispered loudly, as if Lance was directly on the other side of the door, waiting for him.

“First of all, Lance isn’t even a bully. He’s the nicest guy on the track team.” This was true, of course. Lance never seemed to pick on anyone and stayed away from drama.

“Yeah, but you didn’t see him, that smile was sinister!” Keith flared his arms for emphasis.

“You’re being dramatic. Did you have a Monster this morning?”

“Maybe…”

“Keith Kogane.”

“Hey, you didn’t walk with me this morning. You’re my impulse control.”

“I had a project that I was not about to carry. Anyway, that’s no excuse. Just go in there and apologize right away. I’m sure he’d understand.” She opened the door, motioning him to go inside. Keith pouted, stepping in reluctantly.

“Fine.”

“Hey, if worst comes to worse, just run.” She smirked, closing the door on Keith’s bugged out face.

Keith sighed. He was here now, no turning back. Unless Lance chased him. Then there would be turning.

He walked to the back of the library, where Lance sat at the table, seemingly alone. Keith scanned for anyone who could possibly pop out at any moment, but didn’t see anything.

“First off, can I say I’m sorry for-?”

“Yes, you can,” Lance interrupted. “Say you’re sorry, I mean. Go on.”

Keith tried not to roll his eyes. Lance was probably getting a kick out of watching him squirm. Asshole.

“I’m sorry for what I said yesterday. I didn’t mean it in a bad way, like you’re a cheater or something. It’s just, you’re popular and smart and it’s just weird to see that you’re not good at something,” Keith rambled. “I’m really sorry. I meant no offence.”

Lance smiled, amused. “Hey, I accept your apology. I want no beef with you, I promise. You can sit, too. I don’t bite.”

Keith sat just as hesitantly as he did yesterday, still not trusting Lance as far as he could throw him.

“Can I tell you something, since you’re going to be my tutor for as long as I suck at this?” Lance asked, leaning back on his chair.

“Sure.”

“I feel like I can trust you. You have that trustworthy face thing going on.”

 _He’s eloquent, too, what a guy_ , thought Keith.

“I have learning disabilities. Well, I guess you can’t really call ADHD a learning disability anymore, but yeah. Dyslexia and ADHD. And it’s really bad with math. That’s why I suck.” Lance laughed and Keith wondered how twisted his sense of humor was.

“I’m sorry.” Keith didn’t know what else to say. That was something he never had to deal with but he could always sympathize.

“Yeah, that’s why I got defensive when you said I had it easy. I’m not perfect like you. I just wanted tutoring without being judged, but I guess you’re way too smart to do that.”

“Pfffffffft, I’m not perfect.” Keith snorted. “Of course, I shouldn’t have judged you. That was all my bad.” _Pidge was right. Word for word._

“Not perfect? I’ve seen your grades, man. I noticed how good you are. You’re like, naturally smart. It’s like you have no problems.” Lance looked at him with admiration, and Keith didn’t like it.

_No problems? HA!_

“You have no idea. Besides, you’re pretty smart,” said Keith.

“I have to work a lot harder to prove it,” he admitted. “I’m not exactly perfect.”

“You seem pretty perfect to me,” Keith blurted, and immediately regretted it. He wanted to bury himself like a cartoon gopher, digging right into library floor and tunneling out of there.

“Why do you think I’m perfect?” Lance asked, mouth upturned in a slight smile. “You said that yesterday too.”

_I don’t know, maybe because you’re everything I’m not?_

“So about solving this equation…”

“No, seriously.” Lance leaned closer into Keith’s bubble of personal space. “This isn’t about grades, is it?”

“I’m sorry, I thought I was here to help you with math?” Keith avoided answering him, as he pulled out his book and notepad.

“You are, but you’ve piqued my curiosity. You called me popular.” Lance raised an eyebrow, and Keith felt the eyebrow’s judgement.

“Because you are. Are you going to grill me for stating facts?” Keith didn’t sign up for this.

Lance gave Keith a once-over, scanning him with those ocean blue eyes. “I guess you’re right. But why does that matter?”

“Just forget it,” Keith muttered, opening his textbook. “So for question number three, do you remember the formula or do we have to review it on page thirty-seven?”

“You want to be popular, don’t you?”

_Well, just hit the nail on the head, why don’t you?_

“I can just leave, I don’t have to be here,” Keith informed him. His face was burning, and he hoped Lance didn’t notice the color coming to his cheeks.

“Yeah, but you’re not going to.” Lance had him trapped in a metaphorical corner, and Keith knew it. “You’re jealous, it’s okay. I totally understand.”

Keith hated the word jealous, it made him seem like this nasty green monster with nothing better to do than crave the attention of others. “I’m not-”

“You want to be popular. I get it. Really, I do.”

“Don’t patronize me.”

“I’m not… It makes sense.”

 _Am I really that transparent?_ Keith thought, gripping his pencil tight.

“Hey. _Hey._ ” Lance put a hand on his shoulder, forcing Keith to look at him. “I won’t tell anyone, okay? We’re secret buddies now.” Lance smiled, and Keith couldn’t help but smile back.

“You know, you’re kinda weird, for a popular kid,” Keith teased.

“And you’re pretty cool, for a nerd,” Lance replied, still smiling.

So they spent the rest of the hour going over their homework. They worked well together, since Lance had a basic understanding of the problems. He just had to work slower than Keith, who taught him some trick for remembering the formula. It was pretty easy experience, not at all what Keith was expecting.

“Well, thanks for helping me, dude,” said Lance, finally putting away his own things in his book bag.

“No problem. Same time tomorrow?” asked Keith, not really asking, since they both knew the answer.

“You know it. Wait, before I forget,” Lance dug into his bag, pulling out a sharpie. He grabbed Keith’s wrist, pulling his hand toward him. Lance uncapped the sharpie with his teeth, and wrote his number on Keith’s pale hand. “So you can remind me. I’m a bit of spaz.” He recapped the sharpie, and stuffed into his bag, zipping it up in one quick swoop. “See you later, Keith-meister.” He slung his bag over his shoulder, and left Keith to stare at the black ink numbers seeping into his skin.

He had Lance’s number. Girls and guys would kill for that number.

Wait until Pidge heard about this.

 

“He just wrote it on your hand like a heathen?” asked Pidge, unimpressed. They were on their way to lunch, which was right after their shared English class.

“Yeah. I mean all he had to do was ask for my phone, but I guess he’s too cool for that,” said Keith, blushing slightly. Pidge would call his jealousy a crush, but Keith knew Lance was just better than he’d ever be. It was admiration, in a twisted way.

“Uh huh. So did you text him?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Keith rolled his eyes.

“Of course I did,” he scoffed, pushing his bangs behind his ears, which didn’t stay. Keith wondered why he bothered trying to control his hair when it did its own thing for the past two years. He didn’t feel comfortable cutting it though. It reminded of him of his mom, and he couldn’t let it go. “After I put in my phone like a normal person. I spent like an hour scrubbing it off my hand. I swear I lost two layers of skin. Brace yourself.” They prepared themselves for the onslaught of noise as they pushed through the double doors. The cafeteria was their least favorite place in this giant building. The florescent lights were blindingly bright and reflected harshly against like white tiled floor. It always seemed crowded, as if there were a hundred more students in there than usual.

They made their way through the line, picking out the lesser disgusting option out of the two that were offered. They made their way to their usual table, passing by the jocks table, a mix of the two biggest sports teams: football and track. Lance sat beside his best friend Hunk, who was a linebacker on the football team, and was currently laughing at something said, leaning into Hunk and gripping his darker skinned arm.

 _Even his laugh is perfect_ , thought Keith, whose own laugh could be compared to a squealing pig, snort and all. _Fuck that guy._

Lance opened his eyes and glanced up at Keith as he passed the table. Keith caught his eye, staring at him without meaning to, and watched as Lance winked at him. He fucking winked at him. Ugh, that asshole. Keith ignored that his stomach felt like it just plummeted two stories, and pulled Pidge along to their table. They sat down, still in view of the jocks table. Keith fought the urge to look back at that perfect fucker that had the nerve to wink at him.

 _Stop making it a big deal. Pidge can smell suspicious thoughts_ , he told himself.

“I’m just glad you realized he’s human just like the rest of us,” said Pidge, unapologetically scarfing down her burrito.

“Well duh, it’s not like he’s an alien.”

“Not like us,” she teased.

“Believe me, if I was an alien people would actually notice me,” Keith said sarcastically.

“I will never understand your desire to be popular. You tired of being a wallflower?”

Keith had his own reasons, but simply answered her in the most generic reason he could come up with. “I mean, we have less than two years here. Do you really want be one of those kids that no one knows?”

“I like my unknown status, thank you very much. It gives me an air of mystery, which is so much cooler,” she replied, offended. She scrunched up her nose in distaste, like popularity was a horrible smell.

“That was the lamest thing I’ve ever heard.”

She flicked her peas at him, and Keith ducked, hoping they didn’t fly far enough to hit someone else.

“Watch it, this is Shiro’s flannel.” Keith clutched the fabric defensively.

“I’ll never understand why you keep borrowing your cousin-brother-dad’s shirts, especially since they’re like… five sizes bigger. I’m sure Principal Allura would much rather sleep in them.” She was referring to Shiro’s current girlfriend, who was also their principal. They meet at the PTA meeting last year, and let’s just say report cards weren’t the only thing Shiro brought home.

“Fuck, don’t remind me. She’s coming over for dinner tonight,” he groaned. It wasn’t that Keith disliked Allura, she was pretty cool, as far as principals went. But she was still a principal, and tried way too hard to be maternal, considering she was barely ten years older than him. He didn’t need another mother.

“Oh god, that’s rough buddy.” Pidge patted Keith’s hand sympathetically.

“Thanks, Pidge.”

“Are you tutoring him again today?”

“Everyday.” Keith didn’t mind it though. An hour a day was nothing. Lance wouldn’t need him much longer, if the first quiz on Friday turned out well in his favor. Until Lance ‘stopped sucking’ probably meant this was not a long term gig.

“Why does he even need you?” asked Pidge, who was shamelessly curious. She would never call Lance perfect, but she had to admit his record spoke for itself. He wasn’t one of those athletes that slid on by because teachers knew sports were more important, his test scores reflected that he was at least intelligent enough for him to pass, so being one of the top students was well deserved.

“I can’t really tell you. It’s a secret,” Keith smirked.

“Oh, you’re keeping secrets from me? I’m hurt. You couldn’t even keep your sexuality a secret.”

“That’s because you walked on me staring far too hard at Rami Malik and _asked_. What was I supposed to say? ‘Oh, I’m just admiring this episode of Mr. Robot for the scenery.’ Nah that was full homo. All the gay.” Keith finished off his burrito, ignoring what the cafeteria tried to play off as a healthy vegetable. Peas be damned.

“Still, this is a first,” she sipped her milk, eyeing him suspiciously.

“He trusts me. I don’t want to break that trust, even if he’d never find out.” Keith glanced at Lance through his peripheral.

“Awww, before you know it you’ll be best friends,” she teased again.

“Please, you’ll fight him before that happens.”

“You’re damn right. I’ll kick his ass.” She pretended to flip her hair, since it didn’t reach past her earlobes. Keith giggled.

“I would never give you up.”

“Good. You know too much about me.”

They laughed, and for the moment Lance was forgotten.

 

“I swear, Mr. Shada sounds like he’s perpetually a teenage boy,” said Lance, towards the end of the tutoring session.

“Maybe he’ll grow out of it,” said Keith offhandedly, not realizing he made a joke.

Lance laughed. “You’re funny.”

“Heh, thanks.” Lance called him funny. Wow.

“Since our test is Friday, do you want to just come over after school?”

“Come over? What, like to your house?”

“Uh, yeah. Unless you have a problem with that…”

“No!” Keith blurted. “I mean, no. That’s not a problem.”

“Okaaaaay, well, see you tomorrow, Keith.”

“See ya, Lance.”

 

“So I hear you’re tutoring Lance McClain,” said Allura, scooping steamed vegetables into her bowl. It was curry night, or as Keith liked to call it: who still had all their taste buds night. Allura seemed to use every spice under the sun, and while Keith dabbled in the spice world, (he put sriracha in his eggs, okay?), the spice level in Allura’s curry was an assassination attempt. Shiro didn’t seem to mind, of course; only because he was the one wrapping his prosthetic arm around her as she cooked, helping by checking on the rice. “How’s that going?”

“Good.” Keith didn’t feel like talking at dinner. All conversations ended up with her trying to give him motherly advice, which he didn’t appreciate.

“Lance McClain? The track star?” asked Shiro, passing the vegetables to Keith with his good arm. “Isn’t he, like, at the top of your class?”

“Yeah.”

“Even those at the top need help sometimes,” Allura stated, squeezing Shiro’s hand.

“Can we just eat, please?” Keith pleaded. He didn’t want to talk about his. It was going well, and talking about it with an actual authority figure could jinx it. Keith was certain that Allura knew nothing about Lance’s learning disabilities, and he didn’t want to give her any ideas.

“Sure, kid.” Shiro passed him the rice, and they ate the rest of their meal in silence.

 

Friday came by faster than Keith anticipated. After a review session that kicked both their asses, they walked into precalc confidently. Keith walked past Lance to get to his usual seat, subtly squeezing Lance’s shoulder. He really wanted Lance to do well.

The period passed by quickly. They turned in their tests along with the rest of the class. Keith walked into the hallway, going to meet up with Pidge. He pulled out his phone and sent Lance a message.

 

 **Me:** _How well do you think you did?_

**McPerfect:** _A++++_

**McPerfect:** _See you after school_

Right. That was still happening. Keith still found it hard to believe.

 

Keith stopped at his locker after last period, putting his books away. He sent Shiro a text to let him know where he’d be, and was ready to meet Lance. His phone buzzed, and Keith pulled it out to see a text from Lance.

 

 **McPerfect:** _Meet me at the front of the school :D_

Keith closed his locker and made his way to the front of the school, where he heard Lance before he saw him. While Keith felt invisible, Lance was louder than a rainbow track suit.

“Hey Cindy, you free for the movies on Saturday?” he asked a short blonde girl.

“Sorry Lance,” she giggled.

“What about you Jeremy?” He asked the tall brunette next her, waggling his eyebrows.

“You jerk, Cindy and I have been dating for three months,” Jeremy scolded playfully.

“Well congratulations, you crazy kids.” Lance spotted Keith coming towards them. “Keith, buddy!” he called out. Jeremy and Cindy left, laughing to themselves. “Just in time.” He threw his arm around his shoulder, dragging him to the front doors.

“You really want to go this way?” asked Keith, suddenly self-conscious about how this looked.

“Of course, this is the quickest way to my house. It’s two streets down that way.” They pushed through the front doors and Lance pointed to the right with his thumb.

“Oh okay. I just, didn’t think you’d want to be seen with me all out in the open.”

“What, you think I’m embarrassed to be around you? We have to work on your self-esteem, man. You’re my friend now.”

_Friend? He really just called me his friend._

“Oh, well, that’s cool,” Keith grinned.

“You bet. Let’s go. Onward and upward, two streets up!”

They walked together to Lance’s house, the autumn breeze blowing past them.

“Normally I’d run,” said Lance, about halfway to their destination. “But I thought it’d would be more polite if we just walked normally.”

“Well thank you for realizing I’m not an athlete,” Keith mumbled. Lance chuckled.

“No problem. Hey, um, just to avoid any awkwardness, I have a little sister, she doesn’t look like me or my moms because she’s adopted.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Didn’t know if you were used to mixed families. Also, my mom is a cancer survivor, her hair is still growing back and just, avoid staring at her like she’s an animal at the zoo.”

“Congrats to her. I won’t be awkward, I promise,” Keith reassured him.

Lance sighed. “Thank you. I’ve just had, you know, other friends be weird about it and I wanted to make sure you knew.”

“Believe me, if I ever act like a jerk to your family, I’ve been taken over by pod people.”

“You believe in that stuff?”

“Just call me Fox Mulder.”

“Ha! You’re a riot, Keith-meister.”

They turned down the second street, passing various houses, until Lance stopped them in front of a house with dark blue shutters and cream paneling.

“Mi casa. Welcome to the lair of Lance!” Lance gestured dramatically to the house.

“Lair? You a supervillain?” They walked to the front door, stepping onto the stoop that was really too small for two people.

Lance dug into his letterman jacket pocket, trying to find his key. “Shit, I forgot my key again.” He pounded on the door. “Moooooooooooooom.”

The door opened, and a pale woman with blue eyes and a scarf wrapped around her head stood, looking amused. “You forgot it again, Lancelot. What have I told you?”

“Check the list, and when in doubt, check it again,” Lance recited.

“You better remember that. What if I had been getting your sister from kindergarten?” Her gaze shifted towards Keith. “Is this your new friend?”

“Yes mom, he’s my math tutor. I asked if he could come over yesterday.”

“Yes, I remember, you _really_ wanted his company,” she teased, and Keith blushed. “Well, come in, make yourself comfortable. I’m Angeline, or Mrs. McClain, if you feel formal. But I prefer Angel.” She stuck out her hand and Keith shook it. Her grip was pretty impressive.

“I’m Keith, Mrs. Mc- I mean, Angel.”

“Oh, I know, Lancelot couldn’t stop talking about you.” She winked, and Lance made a strangled noise.

“Because you’re good a math,” he explained to Keith. “Geez. Ever since I came out you act like anyone I bring over could be a possible suitor,” Lance complained,

“I want only the best for my little knight,” she said, smirking at Keith, who tried hard not to laugh.

“Okay, well, before you embarrass me anymore, we’ll be up in my room.” Lance pointed to the black rack in the small hallway between the living room and the front door. “Shoes go over there.”

Keith looked down at his feet, then to Lance’s, which were already shoeless. How the fuck… Better not think too hard about it, Keith decided, pulling off his boots and placing them on the rack.

“My room is upstairs, just follow me.”

They walked up the carpeted stairs, turning down the hallway, stopping between two doors.

“This is my room,” Lance told Keith, which seemed pretty obvious, what with the giant ‘Top Gun’ poster stuck to it. “I have to make sure it’s clean. Hold on.” He slipped inside, barely opening the door. Keith leaned against the wall awkwardly. What was he getting himself into? At least his mom was nice. Lance had her sharp features, and her eyes. She had a great sense of humor. Lance was pretty lucky.

“You can come in.”

Keith opened the door and looked around Lance’s room. The walls were a pretty baby blue, and were pretty bare, save for the shelf lined with track trophies. A twin bed sat against the wall, covered in a gray comforter and dark blue pillows. A white vanity filled with various products was across from the bed on the opposite wall.

“Nice room,” said Keith.

“Thanks,” said Lance, whose back was to him. He turned suddenly, spreading a thick goop on Keith’s face.

“What are you doing?” Keith exclaimed. “What did this? What are you trying to do?” He swiped a finger across his forehead, looking at the dollop of goop on his finger. It was green, and chunky, and smelled like mint.

“It’s a face mask. You gotta rub it all over your skin. Like this.” Lance made a rubbing motion on his face.

“Is this a joke?” Keith should have known Lance was going to embarrass him.

“No! No, listen. I thought about what you said. About me being perfect and popular. And I want to help you be like me.”

“What the fuck are you on about?”

“Look, I could tell you popularity is just this big illusion, that it really doesn’t matter, but I want you to feel better about yourself, okay? I was like that once. Unfortunately, this face didn’t get handsome overnight. It took hard work, a lot of facial scrubs, and some false confidence through most of our freshman year.” Lance took a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts into a coherent stream. “What I’m trying to say is… I want you to be happy about yourself. You’re a good looking guy, you’re funny, and you could just as easily be as popular as me. So I feel like I should help you. But first, you gotta tell me why you want this.”

Keith could easily protest, call Lance crazy, but this what he wanted. It was stupid and childish but he was tired of being someone unknown.

“I feel like I’m going to be forgotten.”

Lance clapped his hands together. “There’s a good answer. Believe me, everyone will know your name after I’m done with you. Now spread.”

“What even it this stuff?” asked Keith, spreading the green goop with his hands

“It’s an avocado mint face mask with honey exfoliate, it does wonders for your pores.”

“What, did you learn this from your older sister?”

“Are you kidding? Stasia thinks BB cream and a nice face wash is taking care of her skin. No, the internet taught me this, thank you.” Lance had no time for Keith’s sexism. “You’re not even getting your T-zone. Sit,” he ordered, and Keith complied, sitting on the bed. Lance rubbed the mixture on his forehead and down his nose. Keith was at the mercy of another boy’s fingers.

“What is this supposed to do?” Keith never used this stuff before, if his dry skin was any indication.

“Make you glow. First thing about confidence, even if it’s fake, is that you have to be comfortable in your own skin,” said Lance. “Trust me, healthy skin is so much better, you’ll start feeling like you can do anything.”

“I’m starting to feel like an idiot,” said Keith, cynically. This was too good to be true, and Keith had a sneaking suspicion this was all part of an elaborate scheme. Those pretty blue eyes were full of mischief.

“Okay, sourpuss, give yourself all the wrinkles.” Lance finished spreading the mask on Keith’s face, stepping back to admire his handy work. “Alright, so you let that sit for twenty minutes…” He turned and rummaged through the drawers of vanity, pulling out a headband. “Pull your bangs back.”

“Why?”

“You want hair in your mask? Pull them back, please.”

Keith did as he was told, and Lance pulled the headband over his head, holding it around his neck, then bringing it back over Keith’s hair, snapping it into place.

“Do want to listen to music? I should have some “Fall Out Boy” or “Panic!” on here,” said Lance, pulling out his phone and plugging it into the speaker on the right side of the vanity. He sat in his desk chair, scrolling through his music. “I assume you’re an Emo Trinity person? Warped Tour kind of guy?”

Keith resisted rolling his eyes. Just because he _dressed_ like someone who listened to those bands, didn’t mean he did. All the time.

“You have any Katy Perry? Or Ke$ha? Something from like 2006? This puts me in that kind of mood. It’s like a sleep over.” Keith’s voiced dripped with sarcasm, despite being honest.

Eyes wide, Lance clicked on his phone immediately. Katy Perry’s “Roar” played softly though the speaker.

“So, your moms… Did they not want you to get help with…?” Keith hesitated, not sure if this was a comfortable topic.

“I didn’t want it. I mean, there’s not much you can do for dyslexia, except being put in those special programs. I didn’t even get diagnosed until sixth grade because I was too stubborn to admit something was… wrong with me. I don’t even like saying that, it makes me feel like a damaged model or something.” Lance twiddled his thumbs. “As for my ADHD, I tried Adderall, but it just made me feel kind of empty. Like, I couldn’t sleep, I never had an appetite, and it was like having depression. So I begged them to take me off. I liked the energy. So I promised my moms that if I wasn’t going to be medicated I’d put my high energy to good use. So I joined the track team and worked twice as hard to prove I wasn’t going to fail.” Lance dug his foot into the carpet. “Pretty stupid huh?”

Keith was amazed. Lance was pretty brave for going through school without the help. It had to be difficult, from Keith’s limited understanding.

“No, not stupid at all,” Keith amended. He tried to smile, but the stretching of his face felt uncomfortable.

“Don’t move your face too much, it will crack the mask,” Lance scolded, but his mouth formed a small smile.

“How many siblings do you have?” Keith figured he should get to know Lance more, since they were going to be close.

“Three. Two biological, one adopted.”

“So you were from a previous marriage?”

“Oh no. Me, Stasia and Cisco are related to both our moms.” Lance sensed Keith’s confusion, so he continued. “My mom you meet downstairs, she gave birth to all of us. My uncle on my other mom’s side was the donor, so we could technically be related to her. It’s weird to think about it, but hey, we’re here.”

“So your little sister...?”

“After my mom was diagnosed with ovarian cancer a couple years after I was born, she knew she couldn’t have any more kids that way. So, once she had her hysterectomy and was cancer free, she decided to adopt one more kid. A friend of hers had a baby, and knew she wasn’t in the right place to raise her, so little Ororo McClain came home to us. I love her so much, she’s my favorite.” Lance smiled fondly.

“Your parents named her after Storm?” Keith was impressed.

“She lives up to her name. What about you? Any siblings?” asked Lance, reclining back in his chair.

Keith frowned. He wasn’t quite comfortable with telling Lance about his life, so he tried to dance around it.

“I have a cousin who’s like an older brother to me. And my best friend Pidge, she’s practically my sister.”

“Is that the girl you sit with at lunch?”

“What, are you stalking me now?” Keith raised an eyebrow, or tried to, since the mask constricted his face.

“No, I just observed,” Lance defended. “I thought maybe she was your girlfriend.”

Keith snorted. “Oh my god, I’m telling Pidge. She’s going to be so offended that you assumed she’s hetero.”

“She’s gay?”

“Ace as the day is long. Besides, I’m not really interested in dating anyone, either.” Keith wasn’t in the closet, per say. He just never thought about dating anyone. No one interested him, as far as guys at his school went. He figured college was better for that anyway. He was a subtle gay, for now.

“Good, I don’t have to set you up with anyone now. Less pain for the both of us.” Lance’s tongue peeked out from the corner of his smile, reminding Keith of his cat Barry. “So does your cousin-brother live close?”

“I live with him, actually.”

“Oh, are your parents not around much?”

This was the part that Keith dreaded. Explaining his parents never brought him much joy, and it certainly didn’t now.

“My dad… I never met him. He left soon after I was born. I get money from him occasionally, but Shiro’s a great mechanic so it’s not like we need it. My mom, she’s-”

A shill beeping sound came from the speaker, interrupting what Keith was about to say. Lance grabbed his phone while Keith let a sigh of relief.

“Hold that thought, it’s time for you to rinse off the mask.” Lance grabbed Keith by the wrist, dragging him out of the room and down the stairs. The bathroom was right by the stairs, but Lance dragged him into the kitchen, instead. Angel stood there, reaching for her keys on the wall across from the fridge, stopping when she saw the green faced Keith and her son.

“I’m not going to ask,” she said with the most neutral expression, as if she saw this on a regular basis. “Lance, I’m going to pick up Ororo from school. Would you and your friend like anything? I’m picking up pizza for dinner.”

“Do you want juice or anything?” Lance asked.

“Um sure. Whatever you usually get is fine.”

“Excellent. Are you vegetarian?” asked Angel.

“No.”

“Wonderful. Lance, don’t make a mess.”

“Yes mom.”

Angel smiled, grabbing her keys and going through the back door. “Be back soon.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “I swear, you clog a sink once and now it’s always ‘don’t make a mess Lance.’”

“I feel like there’s a story behind that,” Keith implied slyly.

“There is, it’s an epic tale. Maybe you’ll have the honor of hearing it one day.” Lance stuck out his tongue and Keith laughed, feeling the mask crack around his mouth.

“Sir Lancelot, the modest.”

“Hey, it _is_ epic. Anyway, rinse your face in the left sink, I’m going to get a towel and lotion.” Lance left the kitchen, leaving Keith to himself.

“It puts the lotion on its skin…” Keith quoted in a deep voice, turning on the tap.

“HA!” barked Lance from the bathroom.

Keith lowered his head to the sink, pooling the running water into his hand, splashing it against his face, rubbing off the mask. It flaked off easily around his forehead, but needed to be scrubbed off around his jawline. His face tingled in what he assumed was a good way. Lance came back with a small bottle of lotion and a small white towel in the other. Keith turned off the faucet, blinking water out of his eyes.

“Here, pat your face lightly with this and then rub some lotion on. Remember your T-zone!” He emphasized, handing Keith the towel first. Keith did as he was told, patting the fluffy towel against his face. Lance gave him the lotion after, and Keith rubbed a generous amount into his skin. Is this what good skin felt like?

“How do you feel?”

“Like the prettiest girl in the world,” he replied. Lance laughed.

“You don’t have to be a girl to take care of yourself. I’ve never understood why guys would want to feel gross and not do simple things like treat their skin well,” admitted Lance.

“Masculinity is a fragile thing.” Keith agreed, even though he never taken care of his face in his life.

“It’s a shame. You know, your hair held back like that is a good look. Brings out your eyes.”

Keith wasn’t used to compliments, ever. Especially not from Lance.

“Ha, um, thank you?” Keith felt his cheeks heat up.

“No problem. Come on, let’s chill until my mom gets back.”

So they went into the living room, which Keith now noticed was a soft pastel yellow. The sat together on the gray couch, and Keith absentmindedly moved the floral pillow to the left side. Lance flipped through the channels until he landed on the cartoon channel.

“Oh, Regular Show.”

“I’m partial to Adventure Time myself.”

They watched in silence, and Keith kept thing about how down to earth Lance was. It wasn’t what he expected from him at all. You shouldn’t really judge a book, Keith thought. Still, Keith wasn’t too trusting, and hoped the subject of his mom was forgotten.

After an episode the door opened, and a little dark skinned girl with big brown eyes and hair tied into two puffed pigtails came running into the living room.

“Lance!” she exclaimed, jumping into her brother’s lap.

“Hey, O! How was school?” asked Lance cheerfully.

“We learned about numbers. We added them!” She made a plus sign with her fingers, grinning a gapped toothed smile.

“That’s awesome, Ororo! Anything else?”

“I colored a dolphin for you Lancey.”

“Oh man, my favorite animal. Where is it? I’ll post it on my wall,” Lance told her with a big smile.

“Her book bag,” said Angel, who walked through the door. She held two pizza boxes in her hands, and a small pink book bag dangled off her arm. “Son, be a dear and take these for me while I grab the drinks from the car.”

Ororo slid off her brother’s lap and Lance sprang up from his seat, grabbing the n=boxes and sliding the bag onto his arm with ease.

“Do you need help?” asked Keith, trying to be polite.

“Nah. You sit.” Lance ordered. He disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Keith and his sister alone.

Ororo stared at Keith with the innocent gleam of child curiosity, and Keith never felt more scrutinized in his life.

“You’re pretty,” she stated, her head cocked to the side.

Keith coughed, mouth suddenly dry. “Thanks.”

“Lance is pretty too.”

“Yeah, I guess he is.” God this child was going to kill him.

“Pretty boys.”

“Yeah, boys are really pretty,” said Lance as he suddenly reappeared from the kitchen. “Girls are pretty, too. But you know who’s the prettiest?”

“Who?” Ororo asked innocently.

“You are.” He picked her up and swung her round as she squealed in delight.

Keith watched this all, his stomach sinking. Lance really was the lucky one.

Lance set her down. “You can show me that awesome dolphin now.” He dangled the bag off of his finger, and Ororo grabbed it enthusiastically. She unzipped it and pulled out a slightly crumpled paper, handing it to Lance.

“O, this is beautiful! I love it!” He held the paper to his chest dramatically, and Keith stifled a giggle. “Come on, let’s go get you some pizza.” She took his hand as they went to the kitchen together.

Was Keith supposed follow them? He wasn’t really comfortable just roaming around Lance’s house. So he just sat there, waiting for Lance to come back. He knew he looked awkward but it was better than being too comfortable. The only other house he had been to was Pidge’s, and he could probably walk through there blindfolded. He didn’t get out much that was for sure.

“You know, you can move around. It’s not going to kill you.” Lance told him, holding out a paper plate with steaming pizza.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to… being places.” Keith took the pizza, a little embarrassed now.

“It’s okay, I’m sure when I come over next week to your place you’ll be loosey-goosey.” Lance said a matter-of-factly.

“My place?”

“Oh yeah, wardrobe is the next step. Should be easy. Guys don’t care about clothes that much, but you still want to stick out, since you’re not like, an athlete.”

Lance just invited himself over to Keith’s house. And Keith didn’t even say no.

“Sure, okay.”

Eyes wide with panic, Lance held up his hands and tried to back track. “I mean, oh god, I didn’t mean to just-”

Keith laughed. “Pfffft, it’s okay. You’re just really into this.”

“Yeah, well, like I said: I want to help you. No one deserves to feel like they’re nothing.”

Where was he a few years ago? Keith wondered. That was when he really needed to hear someone say that.

“Where’s you mom? I didn’t see her come in through the front door,” Keith noticed.

“She went through the backdoor. My other mom should be home soon, so she put her car in the garage.” Lance collapsed on the couch, sticking a leg over the arm not occupied by Keith. “Do you need a ride home? I can borrow my mom’s car when you want to go.”

“No, Shiro’s picking me up around six.” Checking his phone, Keith realized that was sooner than he realized.

“Cool.”

After a while the front door opened again, and this time a shorter woman with similar skin tone to Lance and dark hair pulled into a curly ponytail stepped in from the hallway.

“Where is my beautiful wife? I’m exhausted and need some love,” she announced.

There was a quick thud of footsteps, and Angel came in through the doorway between the living room and kitchen. “Oh, darling! I thought you’d never return!”

_So that’s where Lance gets his dramatics from._

Keith watched as Angel flounced to her wife, wrapping her in her arms. She kissed her forehead, and Lance’s other mom giggled like a school girl.

“Who’s the other boy? Did we adopt another son?” she asked, glancing over at Keith with genuine confusion.

“Mama, this is Keith, my friend.” Lance gestured with an open palm.

“What was that? I couldn’t hear you over the sound of limbs draped across my furniture.”

Lance readjusted himself, putting his feet on the floor. “This is Keith, my friend.”

“Oh, your math tutor. I’m so glad you’re helping my stubborn son.” She told him, and Lance groaned. “I’m Lucinda. Or Luci. Mostly I’m just tired. Please ignore my sweaty hospital scrubs.” She pulled on her shirt with a twisted look of disgust.

“I’m Keith, and it’s no problem really.” Keith said modestly.

“Oh, honey, there’s pizza.” Angel informed her, and Luci’s eyes lit up.

“God bless. I’m going to change, I’ll be right back.” She pressed a quick kiss on her wife’s cheek, and went to the bedroom next to the bathroom.

“Your moms are pretty cool.”

“Don’t tell them that.”

“Son, don’t be a hater.”

“Correction, your moms are awesome.” Angel winked as she left the room again and Keith smiled. God he missed his own mom.

“Dude. Eat your pizza. It’s getting cold.” Lance tried to ignore his mom and Keith’s bonding, even though it was pretty entertaining. Out of all his friends he brought over, Keith was the one they seemed most comfortable with, even more than Hunk. That seemed like a good sign. Lance loved having friends.

After a few bites of pizza, Keith felt his phone buzz. He didn’t have to pull it out to know it was Shiro. No one else but Pidge, (and Allura, for emergencies), had his number. Keith glanced over at Lance, who seemed to understand.

“Wow. That was fast. Um, so I guess I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah. You want to come by Friday?” Might was well set a day.

“That’s perfect.” Lance slugged him on the shoulder, trying to do the bro thing.

“See you then. Good bye Mrs. and Mrs. McClain! Bye Ororo!” he called out as he left through the front door. He walked up to Shiro’s truck, getting in the passenger’s seat.

“So, have fun?” asked Shiro, as he pulled away from the curb.

“Oh yeah, we just hung out. Watched TV, ate pizza. Just like bros do.” Keith explained, smiling to himself.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“You have a headband on.”

Whoops.


	2. 6 Inch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He walked in the school like nobody’s business. He murdered everyone and I was his witness.”
> 
> “Oh my god.”
> 
>  
> 
> 6 Inch- Beyoncé (ft. the Weeknd)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2!!! It's finally here! I know this plot is silly but bare with me the good things are coming!

After insisting the headband was something borrowed from Pidge (“Why don’t you just cut it?”) and getting Shiro off of his back (“You know why, Takashi.”), Keith was finally able to go into his room for some peace and quiet. He was still in awe of his experience at the McClain household. Lance was so nice, and his moms… Keith pulled out the picture of his own mom from under his mattress, looking it at it for the millionth time. It had been three years and he still the pain pull at his heartstrings. Keith loved Shiro, and Allura tried her best, but they could never replace her.

Keith sighed. He had a good feeling about Lance, and he hoped he wouldn’t ruin this.

 

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard,” said Pidge, adjusting her kitty thigh-highs. “How is he going to make you popular? This sounds like the plot of a bad teen move, Keith, and it worries me.”

“I trust him, Pidge, and you how hard that is for me. This is what I want. I need you to support me on this. I’ve supported all of your wacky decisions. Remember the bedazzled Roomba incident?” He stepped over torn book, tsk-ing disappointedly. No respect for books here.

“Hey, that was a success!”

“And cutting your own hair?”

“The barber evened it out. Eventually. Look,” she stopped him, grabbing him by the arm. “Being popular like your mom isn’t going to bring her back, Keith.”

“I know, but I could at least feel like she’s here again, being proud of me,” he said, running a hand through his hair, a nervous tick.

“She’d be proud of you no matter what social standing you were in. Just because she was a cheerleader and hung out with that crowd doesn’t mean you have to do the same thing.”

“Katie…”

“Okay, fine. You become popular, then what? You abandon me to hang out with your new cool kid gang?” she asked sarcastically.

“I’d never stop being your friend, Pidge. I pinky promise.” To make his point, he held out his pinky.

She eyed him skeptically, before grabbing it with her own. “You just made an unbreakable pact. Dangerous waters you’re skimming here Keithy boy.”

“I solemnly swear by it,” he promised.

“God we’re nerds,” she laughed, holding her books to her chest.

“We’re the _best_ nerds,” he corrected her. They walked down the hallway, ready to split off to their respective classes.

“You’re tutoring him again today right?”

“As usual.”

“You know, the library is a romantic place, if you think about it.” Her face was suggestive, and Keith wasn’t having it.

“I told you, I don’t like Lance. Guys here in general aren’t interesting.”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

“Pidge I swear to god.”

She scurried away, grinning. “Don’t be late for class.”

Keith sighed. He didn’t like Lance McClain, and never would.

_Never._

“So what’s your favorite color?” Lance asked him suddenly, during their session on Wednesday.

“Uh, red.”

“Hmmmm. I could have guessed that,” said Lance, pointedly looking at Keith’s flannel of the day.

“Oh, what’s that supposed to mean?” asked Keith.

“Nothing.”

“Uh huh.”

“You just look like a human Shadow the Hedgehog impersonator.” Laughter bubbled from Lance and Keith glared at him.

“Okay, so you can fuck all the way off,” Keith said, but his mouth twitched with a smile.

“No! Okay, okay I’m sorry,” he laughed. “Favorite season?”

“Winter.”

“You like the snow?” Lance’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“I’m a slut for the snow,” Keith grinned.

“Keith the Slut, is that my new nickname for you?”

“I’m slut in theory.”

“So you don’t fuck the snow?” Lance asked seriously, and Keith shoved him, chuckling.

“What about you?” Keith was up for this little game. He twirled his pencil absentmindedly between his fingers and stuck it behind his ear.

“ _I’m_ the one with the attention problem, and _you_ don’t remember my favorite color? I am shocked, appalled and offended.” His mouth formed a dramatic O, and he placed a hand over his heart, feigning shock. Drama queen.

Keith racked through his memory. “I have no clue.”

“What color was the dolphin Ororo drew me?”

“Gray?”

“No… it was blue. Didn’t I say: ‘It’s a beautiful blue’?” he asked, starting to doubt himself.

“Nope, don’t remember,” said Keith truthfully.

“Huh,” Lance scratched the back of his neck embarrassedly. “Well, my favorite color is blue. Obviously.”

“Good to know. Does that make you Sonic?”

“Don’t you dare bring me back to that furry nonsense.”

Keith laughed a little harder at that, careful to be conscious of his laughter. The last thing Lance needed to see was his horrible snort.

“Favorite season?”

“Summer. That’s when I get to see my favorite beach in Cuba, and visit my mama’s side of the family. I love the heat, unlike a certain heathen,” he teased again, and Keith’s eyes rolled harder than dice at a casino.

“So are you gathering intel on me? Are you a spy?” Keith asked.

“No, man. I’m just getting to know you better. Is that a crime?” asked Lance, not bothering to conceal the hurt in his voice. Keith felt bad, Lance really wanted to be his friend and being suspicious of him wasn’t very nice.

“No, I guess it’s not.”

 

Friday rolled around, and Keith was not prepared for Lance McClain to be in his bedroom, to see his apartment, to judge his clothes. This was a big deal in Keith’s head, and it was punishing him by being as fucking awkward as possible. Like now:

“Hey, buddy,” Keith greeted Lance, slugging him on the shoulder with a lot more momentum than necessary.

“Ow, hey Keith.” Lance rubbed his sore shoulder, but bounced right back to his excited self. “So, are you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Side note: No. He wasn’t.

They walked through the front doors together, and Keith pointed him in the direction of his apartment, which was three blocks the opposite way from Lance’s house. On the way they made pretty normal small talk, mostly about Ororo and how she was handling kindergarten. She was the only one there with “two mommies” and while in this day and age it should be normalized, Lance still worried that kids might bully her for it, especially since she looked nothing like them. Keith reassured him that kids her age tended to be more accepting, and they were probably going to grow up to be the most tolerant generation. Lance gave him a thankful smile for that. They continued talking, playing another game of questions, and Keith found out several new things about Lance. Like he preferred fruity candies over chocolate, his favorite movie was “Princess Diaries 2”, and he already had his Halloween costume planned for a big party one of the football players held every year (“It’s genius, I swear.”). Keith told him a few things in return, like his love of paranormal shows (“Zak Bagans is my personal hero.”), his dream vacation destination (Egypt), and that he actually liked Brussel sprouts despite Shiro’s absolute distain for them, and ate them by the bag. Their conversation made the walk go by much faster, and they found themselves already at the front door of the building.

“This is the place,” said Keith, suddenly conscious of any and all shabby details of the building.

“Cool.” Lance seemed unfazed by the fact that Keith lived in an apartment complex, and for that he was grateful.

They made their way up the stairs to the second floor, where Keith’s apartment was, three doors down from the stairwell door.

Keith pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, and was greeted with silence. He dropped his school bag on the dining table chairs, and Lance did the same, shuffling behind him as he closed the door.

“Shiro? You home?” Keith called out. Fridays were usually Shiro’s early days, unless he had a specific job at Garrison Garage.

“Yeah! Hold on a second!” Shiro answered, muffled by his bedroom door. Keith looked at Lance and shrugged. Shiro wasn’t the most eloquent when it came to everyday life, but what else was new?

The door on the right side of the hallway opened, and Shiro walked out, combing down his white tuft of hair. He was wearing a black button-down shirt, tucked into his black dress pants, a gray belt, and dress shoes. Not his usual look, and Keith knew it meant one thing: _Allura._

Shiro must have sensed his scrutiny, so he said something before Keith had the chance to open his mouth. “Before you say anything, I’m going over there tonight. It’s our anniversary.”

“Wasn’t that last month?” asked Keith with a raised eyebrow.

Shiro let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes Keith, it happens every month.” His eyes fell on Lance, and his face brightened. “You must be Lance. I’m Shiro.” He held out his right arm to shake, but his sleeve flopped over it. His prosthetic wasn’t on.

Lance, for all of his credit, tried his hardest to not stare awkwardly, and gently pinched the edge of Shiro’s sleeve, moving it up and down, which Keith found hilarious.

“Sorry, usually my other arm is on,” Shiro apologized with a bashful grin. “Now where did I leave that thing?” He glanced around the dining room, and moved into the living room, throwing the cushions aside.

Keith gazed briefly into the kitchen. “It’s on the microwave.”

“No it’s not. Why would be in the kitchen?” Shiro walked back over to Keith, sleeve still flapping comically. “Quit messing with me, Keith.”

“Just look,” Keith told him.

Shiro eyed him, and turned, looking right at the metal arm draping over the black microwave. Keith returned his disbelief with a satisfied smirk. Shiro trudged over, snatching the arm.

“I win.”

“You got lucky.” Shiro muttered. “Anyway, I’m leaving in an hour to pick up her flowers and I’m going to leave money for some takeout. Is that okay?” He seemed to be asking the both of them.

“You like Chinese?” asked Keith.

Lance nodded, oddly quiet.

“Then that’s fine.” Keith agreed. Shiro smiled.

“Good. I’m going to finish getting myself together. It was nice meeting you Lance,” he waved with his prosthetic, and Lance smiled. He went through the kitchen, back to the hallway, and wasn’t quite to his own bedroom when Lance finally asked:

“So when am I going to meet your mom?”

Shiro stopped dead at his door, and Keith swallowed nervously. The subject of his mom was still one they had yet to touch back on, so Keith should have really seen this coming. Shiro fumbled for his door and stepped inside, and Lance wasn’t oblivious to this.

“Let’s uh... head to my room.” Keith led him through the kitchen, and down the hallway to the second door on the left. He opened his bedroom door, and as soon as they were inside Lance rushed to apologize.

“I’m sorry, did I say the wrong thing? I mean, you never mentioned her after you told me about your dad, and so I just assumed she worked late nights and wasn’t around much. My mama’s like that sometimes, because you know hospitals and babies don’t always come out on a nine to five schedule, and-”

“Lance,” Keith interrupted him mid-babble.

“Yeah?”

“It’s okay. She’s not around because…” He took a deep breath. “She’s not alive.”

Lance’s expression switched from mildly confused to clouded over with sadness, his shoulders drooping like wilted plants. His eyes were slightly wider than usual, and Keith chalked that up to shock. There was really no emotion for Keith to be expressing, but he would be lying if the occasionally pang of guilt didn’t resonate through his chest whenever he mentioned her death to someone new. Overall his feelings for her were still in the area of fondness and nostalgia of the time.

“I’m sorry,” Lance apologized again, even though he had no real reason to do so. “I won’t bring her up again.”

“It’s okay,” said Keith, and he meant it.

A small smile formed on Lance’s lips, and Keith felt the sincerity in his heart.

“So!” Lance exclaimed, trying to shift the mood. He clapped his hands together, rubbing them maniacally. “Let’s check out this wardrobe situation.” He waltzed over to the closet. “May I?”

“Go for it.” Keith told him, flopping onto his bed.

Lance opened the closet, revealing a lot of… black.

He stared at it for a moment, blinking. He faced Keith, crossing his arms. “You’re really living into the emo boy stereotype, you know that?”

Keith sat back up, scrunching his nose at him. “There’s color in there, somewhere.”

“Where? Oh, in the sea of flannel?” asked Lance, pulling out five flannel shirts of different colors. “I love the flannels but they scream lesbian instead of lumberjack.”

“That is a horrible generalization.”

“You’d think it was but my moms have at least twelve each,” Lance informed him.

Keith huffed. “Remind me why we’re going through my closet again?”

“You want to be noticed, right? It’s part of the deal.” He swiped through the shirts, looking for more colored ones. “You seem like you’re hiding all the time. Long fringy hair, baggy shirts? When was the last time you cut this mullet?” he asked suddenly, pointing to Keith’s hair.

Keith grabbed at his hair defensively. “I haven’t cut my hair since my mom died.” There he was, mentioning her twice in a day. A new record.

Lance froze in that terrified “I fucked up” way. “I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine Lance.” Keith wasn’t offended, he knew very well his hair was getting out of hand, but he couldn’t bring himself to chop it off. He just couldn’t.

“Ah, okay, well, my point is, you look like you’re trying to not be seen.” He grabbed a green flannel, and tossed it at Keith, narrowly missing his face. “I’m going to show you how to switch it up. Take off your shirt.”

All of Keith’s breathing processes seemed to reverse, and he coughed. “Run that by me again?” he sputtered.

“Take off your shirt. I know you have a t-shirt on under that giant plaid nightmare.”

Oh, right.

Keith followed his order, pulling the flannel up over his head and tossing it to the side. He had the sudden urge to stand, so he did. He had on a tighter fitting gray t-shirt, one of maybe three proper sized shirts.

“Okay, now tie that green flannel around your waist,” Lance ordered, scanning him. Keith suddenly felt very naked.

He grabbed the flannel from his bed, and held it, unsure of how to tie it. Lance seemed to notice, and grabbed it himself, holding it by one sleeve. He held one end at Keith’s hip, and wrapped the flannel around his back, bringing the other sleeve forward. He tied them off at Keith’s hip, the movement thrusting Lance forward, their pelvises nearly touching.

“There you go.” Lance smiled and _wow, were his eyes always that blue?_

“Um, thanks.” Keith averted his gaze, and Lance finally backed away, giving Keith his personal space back.

“Now strut.”

“Excuse me?” Keith looked at him as if Lance asked him to kick his own cat.

“Posture. You hunch. If you stand tall, you’ll come off as confident,” Lance told him simply.

Keith readjusted his posture, rolling his shoulders back and jutting out his chin. Lance nodded encouragingly, and Keith stepped forward, one foot, then the other, until his was walking forward with a new sense of purpose. He experimentally put a hand on his hip he came to a stop in front of Lance, who grinned.

“See, you’ve got it!”

Keith brightened. He executed a sharp turn, walking back to his starting place. This time he stepped, more exaggerated. “Fashion,” Keith mouthed, vogueing as he catwalked.

“Yaaaaaaasss Gaga!” Lance clapped. He grabbed Keith’s other flannel, joining in on the fun. “You could always wear it over the shoulder,” he said, putting in on. The shirt slipped off of his shoulder seductively, and Keith nearly lost it at his ridiculous pout. He suddenly dropped to the floor, then jumped back up. “Something ’bout you, makes me feeeeeeeeeeeel like a DANGEROUS WOMAN.” He rolled on Keith’s bed, singing off key.

Keith retaliated, untying the flannel from his waist and tying it around his neck. “I can be _your_ hero, baby,” he said in his deepest voice, with a fruitless eyebrow waggle.

“Pffffffft.” Lance shrugged of the flannel and tossed it into the air with a flourish. It landed on his head and fell over his face. He jutted out a hip, turning his head dramatically. “This is how you do it Beyoncé.”

Keith couldn’t help it. It started out as a small bubble and built up to a squeal, and he snorted. _Loudly._

Lance lifted the shirt from over one eye, and Keith wanted to sink into the deepest depths of the Earth.

“Your laugh…”

_Here it comes…_

“It brings out your dimples. You have dimples.”

“So? It’s a birth defect,” Keith scoffed, still feeling the heat of embarrassment on his cheeks,

“No, I think you should laugh like that more often,” said Lance with a shy smile.

Just then the door opened, and Shiro peaked his scarred nose in, followed by the rest of his face. “Everything alright in here?”

“Yeah!” Keith’s voice cracked a little. “Yeah, everything is fine. Sup?”

“Riiiiiight, well. I’m about to head out, money’s on the table. There should be soda in the fridge, and leftover cake if you guys have a thing for something sweet.” Shiro’s raised eyebrow was unwavering as he glanced between the two of them suspiciously. “Don’t wait up.” He closed the door.

Lance fell to his knees and Keith collapsed on his bed, practically wheezing.

“Oh my god, he probably thinks we’re nuts,” said Lance, clutching his chest.

“Oh, yeah, totally.” Keith grinned down at him. “You hungry?”

“Yes.”

 

Their Chinese food came right on time, and they hung out in the little living room, watching the first thing that came on TV, which happened to be _Sharknado_.

“I know the possibility of ocean life being sucked into a hurricane is pretty reasonable, but don’t you think animals could sense something off about the ocean and stay the hell away?” asked Lance, poking his fork into his lo mein. “And once they’re sucked in, they’re going to die, so it’s more of a corpse-nado.”

Keith snorted softy, or as softly as he could, staring into his egg foo young.

“What?”

“I never thought I’d be talking about the logistics of Sharknado with _the_ Lance McClain.” Keith confessed, the familiar heat returning to his cheeks.

“You really admired me, didn’t you?” Lance teased. Keith lowered his head into his food, and Lance sensed his discomfort. “It’s mutual, ya know. You’ve been my academic rival for the past two years, and I always knew you were just naturally smart. I was pretty envious.”

That was oddly comforting to know, considering Keith was just as jealous.

“Plus, you’re cute, so I always thought my chances of dating someone before you did were slim.”

Now his face was on fire. Could Lance tell? Probably not.

“I- I’m not really interested in girls.” _Did I really just say that out loud?_

“I know that _now_. Still, I think you’re pretty awesome, Keith,” said Lance, unfazed. “And, back to your mission here, I think you should consider the haircut too.” Oh, great segway Lance.

Keith twirled a lock of hair around his finger. It _was_ getting long. Maybe he should, just a trim. That wouldn’t hurt.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Awesome. You have the potential to look like Brendon Urie. You know, after ‘Too Weird To Live, Too Rare To Die’ came out and he cut his hair and got ripped.”

Keith laughed. “You have ridiculous metaphors.”

“I have the best metaphors.” Lance defended. “Sometimes, change makes you feel… lighter. You’ve been growing out your hair since your mom died, right? So, I think you’ll feel better once you cut it. Not that you really need it,” Lance corrected himself.

“You make a compelling argument,” said Keith. “If I want to do it, I’ll let you know.”

“Cool.” He slurped the last of his noodles, setting the carton aside. “Can we just talk about how bad the acting is in this? Tara Reed could have done so much better.”

“In her defense, it was a completely CGI shark.”

 

They spent the next hour watching that terrible movie, laughing at their shared commentary. Keith was having so much fun, he hardly noticed the time go by. They even split a piece of devil’s food cake, since they were pretty full on Chinese. The night was cut short, however, when Lance got a text from one of his moms, asking him when he’d be home.

“Oh man, do you have to go?” asked Keith, disappointed.

“Yeah, my mama is asking for me,” said Lance, looking almost reluctant to leave.

“Oh, do you need a ride?”

“I mean, I was going to just have my mom pick me up but- I mean, I didn’t know you drive.”

“Well… I drive a motorcycle,” he informed him, watching his eye go wide.

“Keith!” Lance leaned toward him and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him violently. “That is so cool!” He let him go after realizing his excitement was getting the best of him. “Why don’t you ride it to school?”

“Never wanted to draw attention to myself,” Keith answered, and immediately realized how that that sounded. It was a bit hypocritical, considering the situation they were in now.

Lance eyed him skeptically. “Well, now you know you have to ride it school Monday.”

“What?”

“Keith, it’s the final part you need: The cool factor, the air of mystery!”

“Oh.” He never thought of it like that before. Most bikes were considered a nuisance and so he rarely rode it once a month, let alone every day. “I mean, I guess I could…”

“Trust me, everyone will be looking at you, and in a good way,” Lance winked, and Keith’s soul nearly left his body, again. Why did Lance make him so flustered?

“That sounds… good. You wanna head out?” asked Keith, switching the subject for his own sanity.

“Sure. Man, I can’t believe I’m gonna ride a motorcycle!” He pumped his fist victoriously, and Keith thought it was pretty cute. No, not cute. You can’t just call Lance McClain cute. Endearing. That was the word. Cute, pfffffffft.

Lance grabbed his bag off the chair in the dining room, and Keith grabbed his keys. They left the apartment, locking the door behind him. They made their way down the stairs, exiting the building and walking over the side parking lot where Keith’s bike was parked.  Lance’s grinned stretched from ear to ear as his eyes landed on the red motorcycle.

“Holy crow! Keith! It’s so cooooooooooool what the cheese!” Lance exclaimed. Keith beamed, he didn’t think his bike was anything exciting, but Lance’s reaction made him rethink that. He got on first, starting it up, and Lance sat behind him.

“You’re going to have to hold on,” he told him over the sound of the vibrating engine. Lance scooted closer, and Keith was suddenly aware of the proximity of their bodies. Warm arms wound their way around Keith’s waist, gripping tight, and Lance’s chin came to rest on Keith’s shoulder.

“This okay?” asked Lance asked, hot breath misting on Keith’s ear.

“Y-yeah.” Keith stammered. He revved the bike, and suddenly they were off, riding down the main street. They rode past the school with the wind whipping through their clothes, and at the turn Lance’s grip tightened. The bike slowed to a stop in front of Lance’s house. Keith noticed that Lance was still holding on with all his strength.

“Lance, we’re here,” he nudged him, beginning to pry his hand from his waist, even though he didn’t mind it that much.

Lance, whose eyes were tightly shut through most of the ride, blinked. “Oh. That was amazing,” he said shakily, as if the vibration of the bike was still going through him. He hopped off the bike, stepping into the grass, legs wobbling.

“Are you going to be okay?” It was like watching a baby giraffe.

“I’m fiiiiiiine. I’ll see you Monday. Thanks for the ride!” Lance waved, turning to his house, still wobbly.

Keith shook his head, smiling. He started the bike back up, pulling forward and making a U-turn back to his house.

 

It was everywhere. Thick black hair, swirling around in tendrils. His hair was smothering him, forcing itself down his throat and choking him with vigor. Keith couldn’t breathe, couldn’t speak. All he could do was feel the life drain out of him, all because of the hair.

Keith awoke with the start, his heart racing. What a weird dream. He slowly brought his hand to his head, running his fingers through his hair. No longer than normal. Still, he felt uneasy. Maybe that was a sign. A freaky sign, but still. He rushed out of bed, throwing on the first clothes he saw. He knew exactly where he had to go.

 

He knocked three times. Was that enough? Could anyone even hear him? Was it too early? Keith checked his phone again. It was twelve in the afternoon on a Sunday. It seemed like a reasonable time. Most people were out, starting their day. What if they were at church? Keith glanced at the car in the driveway. Probably not. Still, maybe this was a bad idea.

Just then, the door opened, and Lance stood there, in gray sweatpants and a shirt that was purposely cut into a crop top, exposing his toned stomach.

“Good morning,” greeted Lance.

“It’s the afternoon,” said Keith. Great, he probably woke him up.

“I’m eating cereal, so it’s still morning. What’s up?” He leaned against the door.

“I want to cut my hair.”

Lance’s eyes narrowed, not with suspicion but with concern. “Oh. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Keith said confidently.

“Well, then. I know just the place. Come in, I’ll go upstairs and get dressed.” Lance welcomed him inside, and Keith was bombarded by Ororo.

“Pretty boy!” she exclaimed, running up and latching herself onto his leg. Keith could hear Lance laughing upstairs, and he scowled.

“Hey Ororo. What are you up to?” he asked her in his sweetest voice.

“I’m watchin’ Dora! I’m learning Spanish like mama and Lancey,” she told him, dragging him to the couch. He sat with her, looking up at the screen. The new Dora always freaked him out, cartoons weren’t supposed to age. Just the change of art style was weird enough.

“Lance knows Spanish?” That was new. Sure he knew Lance was part Cuban, but he didn’t know if he was necessarily bilingual.

“ _Solo un poquito._ ” Lance answered, coming from the stairs. “Just enough to talk with my mama’s side of the family.”

“That’s awesome.” Keith loved other languages, but never took the time to learn them outside of school. “I guess you’re ready to go?” he asked, noticing he was putting on his letterman jacket.

“Yeah, I know a place just down the street. Ororo, say good bye,” he told her, as Keith stood and moved to leave.

“But we were watching Dora!” she whined.

“Keith can’t stay, Stormy. He’ll be back another day, right Keith?”

Was that an invitation?

“Of course, Ororo,” he promised.

“Okay! Bye pretty boy!” She grinned toothily, waving as they went through the door.

“She loves you, you know. Never shuts up about ‘pretty boy’. ‘When will pretty boy come back?’” Lance mocked in a higher pitched voice. “It’s the cutest thing.”

“She barely talked to me, though,” said Keith, as they walked down the street.

“Kids have an instinct about people, and she must think you’re a good person,” explained Lance. “I mean, she’s not wrong, you’ve put up with me for the past few weeks.” His eyes glinted with the mischievous smile that curled his lips.

“I wouldn’t call it ‘putting up’ with you…” That implied that Lance was a problem, and he definitely wasn’t. “Maybe… charity work?” he teased.

Lance took a minute to process that and nudged Keith in the ribs. “Hey! Not cool, man.” But he smiled. “We’re coming up on the place right now,” he pointed to a brick house just a couple houses down from where they were.

“Lance. That’s a house.”

“What, you don’t trust me?” he asked.

 _Of course I do,_ thought Keith.

“It just doesn’t look like…”

“A place for cutting hair? Oh, but it is. My friend Shay owns the place. Just come on,” he dragged him up the stone steps to the front door. They opened the door and were immediately treated to the scent of fresh flowers as they stepped inside.

“Lance?” A soft voice called out. “Is that you?”

“Hey, Shay-licious. How are you?” he greeted the muscular woman with olive toned skin and dark hair. Keith followed behind him, peaking his head out shyly from behind Lance’s back.

“I’m doing just fine. Is this your friend you called me about?” She looked over at Keith curiously, and he moved away from Lance so she could get a better look at him.

“The very one. He’s a little shy, this is first haircut in a few years.” Keith looked around at the black swivel chairs and mirrors lining the walls. It really looked like a salon.

“He has beautiful hair. It is a shame to cut something like that,” she said bluntly, and Keith’s chest swelled with pride.

“It’s a mullet, Shay,” Lance corrected her. “Besides, he’s the one that wanted this. Right Keith?”

Keith snapped to attention at his name, and he nodded. “Yeah, I think it’s time.”

“Well, why don’t you take a seat and we can get started.” Keith made his way over to the first chair, and sat down. “Do you have a look you’re going for?”

“Brendon Urie!” chimed Lance, who was sitting in the waiting area. “After 2013!’

“Is that what you want?” asked Shay, bending to look Keith in the eyes.

Keith swallowed. “Something like that.”

She smiled a crooked smile. “I got this.” She draped a hair tarp over him, covering his upper body. “Just relax.”

 

After a snip, wash (which was heavenly), and a blow dry, Keith was close to being done. The air against bare neck was strange, something he’d definitely have to get used to. But it was liberating, to say the least. He had yet to see himself, his back was to the mirror and Shay blocked his line of sight to the others across from him. She was putting some last minute product in to style and push back. His bangs were shorter and definitely felt less “edgy”, as Pidge loved to say, but for style Shay was gelling them back just a bit. Keith was unfamiliar with that product personally, but it always sounded like it felt heavy. This was surprisingly light and didn’t make his hair feel stringy as he thought. It was almost time for the big reveal. Shay stepped back, still blocking the mirror, appraising him. She looked satisfied with her work.

“You ready to see yourself, Keith?” she asked.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

She spun his chair around to face the mirror, and his eyes landed on his reflection.

Well, that was… different.

He scanned himself over. His pale neck was now exposed for the first time in three years, and felt so foreign to him without his hair blocking it. His forehead was a lot smaller than he remembered, but it was still pale as hell. His new bangs were gelled back, but a couple strands fell over his forehead, and it worked. He ran his hand against the back of his neck, feeling the short shaven hairs. It was so bizarre, yet… he felt good. Different, in a positive way.

“Lance, you can come over here now,” Shay beckoned him over. Keith stood as Lance walked over, and Lance’s eyes widened slightly, smile spreading across his face.

“Uh, wow. Um, you look…” Keith arched an eyebrow at his hesitation. “You look great! I told you it’d bring out your eyes and stuff,” Lance said quickly.

Keith took no notice of the pink that dusted Lance’s cheeks, as his own flared up suddenly. “Thanks, Lance,” he said bashfully. Bashful? Since when was he ever _bashful_?

“Yeah, I’m gonna step outside, I missed a call from my mom.” Lance looked down at his dark phone. “I’ll see you soon, Shay. Hunk should be coming to get his eyebrows done in a couple days.”

Shay brightened at the sound of Hunk’s name. “Oh, I can’t wait! I hope his upkeep hasn’t been too hard.”

“He just has a couple difficult hairs right here,” said Lance, pointing to his glabella. “I really gotta call her, sorry.” He rushed out of the salon, leaving Keith and Shay to themselves.

“Well, thank you so much, Shay. How much do I owe you?” he asked, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.

“Oh, nothing, it’s been taken care of,” she said, pointedly looking at the door.

“Really?” Lance paid for his haircut? That didn’t seem fair.

“I should really pay for it myself, I mean I feel bad that-”

“Do not worry about it.” She smiled, patting him on the shoulder.

“Uh, then thanks again,” he said. “I’m gonna make sure everything’s alright with Lance. I’ll see you around, then.”

“See you soon!” She waved him off, and he turned, walking toward the door, stopping briefly to shove a ten dollar bill in her tip jar by the register. What can I say? Keith was stubborn.

Keith stood outside, watching Lance lean against the metal railing, definitely _not_ taking to anyone on his phone.

“Lance?” No response.

Walking down the steps, he put a hand on his shoulder. “Lance?”

Lance jumped slightly, turning his head to look at Keith. “Sorry, I was zoning out.”

“Everything okay with your mom?” asked Keith, genuinely concerned.

Confusion crossed his face. “Huh?”

“You missed a call from your mom. Everything okay?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah everything’s fineeeeeee. She was just asking when I’d be home. Mama wanted to take me shopping. I told her I was out with you.” Lance was pretty convincing.

“If you need to go back home, you can. I know the way back to Shiro’s from here.” All he had to do was walk to the end of the street, turn, walk up the next street to the main street, and go three streets down. Not too far.

“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to go to this café a few streets away. They have the best hot chocolate.”

The thought of him and Lance sitting at a café suddenly flooded his brain. Images of Lance under the cute lights flashed before him, and it was too much.

“Um, thanks, f-for the offer, but I have to go home and feed my cat.” It wasn’t a lie but it felt like one. His heart was now pounding, and his hands felt clammy. Why? And why was he making excuses?

Lance stared at the ground, obviously disappointed. “It’s cool. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Yeah, see you Monday.”

 

Monday came, and Keith was ready to show his new self. And by ready, I mean absolutely terrified.

He took his motorcycle to school, as Lance suggested, and he parked it right in front of the school. That earned him a lot of attention that morning. People turned their heads, watching him intently. Whispers echoed through the students.

“Who is that?”

“I don’t know, but he’s cute.”

“Is he new?”

“He’s new to me.”

No one approached him as he walked up the stairs, but they watched him like hawks. He went directly to his locker, still catching the eyes of students. It was really working. His outfit was Lance-inspired: a tight black t-shirt, ripped black jeans (that he found in his closet and had no memory of buying), and a red flannel tied around his waist. He gelled his hair back, and it really seemed to pull the look together. He really looked like a bad boy. Or a hipster, depending how you looked at him.

“He walked in the school like nobody’s business. He murdered everyone and I was his witness.”

“Oh my god,” said Keith, glancing over at Lance, who leaned cozily against the adjacent locker. “Did you really just quote Beyoncé?”

“In my own way, yes.” Lance smirked. “Dude, you look great.”

There was the familiar heat in his cheeks again. “Thanks. But you know, there’s only so many times I can wear this style.”

“I know. That’s why I made you this.” He pulled out a folded piece of from his jacket, handing it to Keith. “It’s a list of looks I think you can recreate with the clothes you already have. I did a bunch of research last night.” Lance seemed so proud of himself, and Keith couldn’t help but smile.

“This is so nice, thank you Lance.” Keith would have hugged him, but something held him back.

“No problem. I got you, buddy.” He clapped him on the back, squeezing his arm. “Just think of me as your new best friend.”

“I’m sorry but Pidge would kill you for that title.”

“I’m not afraid of some pigeon.” Lance said indignantly.

“You should be,” said Pidge, from behind Lance. She had a tendency to pop up behind people, and it was very scary, as supported by Lance nearly jumping out of his skin. “Come on, Keith, we have to get to class.” She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him away from Lance.

“Katie! What are you doing?” asked Keith, straining to look back at Lance. He ripped his arm from her grasp.

“You are completely hopeless,” said Pidge. “I was saving you from becoming a blubbering mess. Nice haircut by the way.”

“What the fuck are you taking about?” He completely ignored her compliment.

“So you’re already in denial.”

“In denial about _what_?”

She narrowed her eyes and cocked her head to the side, staring right up at him. When he realized what she was implying, his own eyes widened and he rushed to correct her.

“Pidge, I do not have a crush on Lance McClain,” he stated. “I’m not in denial, there is no crush. Nada, nothing, no feelings what so ever.”

“Are you sure?” she asked, seemingly concerned.

“I’m positive.”

She scrutinized him a little longer, but finally relented. “Okay, I believe you.”

“Thank you.”

“But if he thinks can replace me as your best friend he has another thing coming,” she threatened, and Keith laughed.

“He won’t replace you, I promise.”

 

Later that day, Keith met Lance at the library for their usual tutoring session. Everything went by smoothly, the only hiccup was Lance mixing up a couple letters in the formula, setting him back a couple problems. Lance’s concentrated face was kind of cute, Keith had to admit. His tongue stuck out a little from the corner of his mouth, like a cat. Was it always that adorable?

Uh…

Lance handed over his paper to Keith, who checked it over and found no errors. Lance was getting so much better, and soon enough he wouldn’t need Keith anymore. For some reason that made Keith a lot sadder than he’d like to ever like to admit out loud.

“Good job, dude,” Keith praised, handing the paper back.

“Thanks. Hey, can I ask you something?” Lance fiddled with his thumbs, and Keith’s anxiety suddenly skyrocketed.

“Sure.”

“I was just wondering, you know homecoming is this Saturday. Are you going?” he asked.

“Nah, dances aren’t really my thing,” Keith answered.

Lance fake coughed. “Emo.”

“Hey, fuck you,” he laughed.

“Well, would you want to go?”

Keith’s heart practically stopped. His hands began to sweat, and he wiped them on his jeans subtly. Was Lance asking him to the dance?

“Are you asking me to go to homecoming with you?” Keith blurted.

“No! I mean, not that you going to homecoming with me would be a bad thing.” Cue Keith’s heart racing. “I just thought it would be fun, and a good way for you to meet people. You know, that crowd.”

“You mean your crowd?”

“Yeah!”

“I’m not exactly a fan of... social functions.” Meaning Keith never had been to a dance in his damn life and was terrified of embarrassing himself. “What if I say no?”

“Well you’ll have to say yes, I already got you a ticket.” Lance pulled out a blue cardstock rectangle with silver words printed in fancy print and smiled devilishly.

Keith’s face fell, and Lance’s smile dropped. “I mean, you don’t have go, if you’re not ready. I just thought-”

“I’ll go.”

“Really?” Lance lit up, smile back on his face.

“Yeah, but I’m paying you back for that ticket,” Keith insisted, snatching the ticket from his hand.

“Sure, whatever. Oh, I’m really excited! I can’t wait for you to meet the rest of my friends. You’ll love Hunk, and…”

Keith stopped focusing on Lance’s babbling, staring hard at the ticket he was holding.

 

_What did I get myself into?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a comment and let me know what you guys think! <3
> 
> hit me up on tumblr: mr-mustache-penis.tumblr.com


	3. Cheap Thrills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now he and Lance were alone, and that left Keith with mixed feelings.
> 
> “So, do you want to dance?”
> 
> Mainly fear.
> 
>  
> 
> Cheap Thrills- Sia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

“He asked you to homecoming?” asked Pidge in disbelief. It was Tuesday, and they were at lunch again. Keith waited to tell her the story because even he couldn’t believe it.

“No! But he’s basically making me go,” he told her, running his hand through his short hair.

“Then I’m coming with you.” Pidge had a determined look in her eye, the kind she got when she had an idea and could not be persuaded to change her mind. See, the Roomba incident.

“Pidge, no, you don’t have to do that,” he tried to tell her, but she was having none of it.

“I’m not going to change my mind. If it doesn’t go well with Lance’s crowd, you’ll still have me there and you won’t be alone.”

She had a good point.

“I have to go shopping with Shiro. I think that’s going to be the biggest problem.”

“He can’t be that bad.”

“He’s an impulse buyer, Pidge. How do think we got Barry?” he said, pointing a fork at her. “He’s going to want to buy me a whole bunch of clothes.”

“I mean, is that a bad thing?” she asked.

“Not really. But still, you know how much I hate the hassle.”

“Does he even know you’re _going_?”

“No.” She raised her eyebrows. “But I’m telling him tonight, and I know he’s going to want to take me shopping, pick out dress clothes…” He could go on.

“Do you even own a button down shirt that’s not a flannel?” she asked, sipping her milk.

“No. I don’t.”

“Well, keep it simple. Go for black everything.”

“But… dress pants,” he whined.

“It’s not that bad. If worse comes to worse, just sneak out in skinny jeans. That’s a style, right?”

“I guess so. I don’t know, I’ll ask Lance.” As soon as he said it, he instantly regretted it.

“Uh huh. You do that,” she said suggestively.

“He’s my _friend_ , Pidge,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh I know. He’s pretty cute, though.”

“Isn’t he?” Keith gushed, and Pidge’s eyes grew to the size of dinner plates. Keith’s mouth snapped shut.

“That means _nothing_!”

“ _Sure_.”

“I hate you.”

 

After school and after his tutoring with Lance, he went home and prepared to tell Shiro the news. To say that Shiro would be surprised was an understatement, and so he mentally readied himself for any form of teasing Shiro might try.

He stepped into the apartment, calling out for Shiro. “Hey Shiro, you home?”

Silence.

Keith sighed. Great. Now he’d have to wait for him to get home. He went into the kitchen and opened up a can of Frisky Feast for Barry, putting half in a bow filled with dry food. He set it back in the usual spot, and sat back on the couch. He did most of his homework while Lance worked on the study guide problems for their next Precalculus test, so he was able to relax. He listened to the rattle of dry cat food scraping against the bowl, and he hoped that Barry would manage to not knock something over.

He turned on the TV and flipped through the channels, trying to find something to watch while simultaneously trying not to psych himself out over telling Shiro about homecoming. It wasn’t _that_ big of a deal. Just a stupid dance. A dance that Lance and all of his popular friends would be at. Dammit.

Keith took a deep breath, and exhaled loudly. He was really freaking out over nothing. This was what he wanted. Right?

Barry hopped onto the table, strutting around like the king of the castle.

“Hey, Bar. How you doing?”

He looked up at Keith quizzically, blinking those baby blues. He swiped his paw at the remote next to him, knocking it over.

“Come here you little shit.” Keith grabbed him from the table and placed him on his lap. “This is why you’re named after Barry Allen, you screw with things.” Barry stared up at him without a care in the world. Keith was constantly reminding the cat of his namesake, in hopes that Barry would change his destructive ways, but like all cats, he just didn’t give a fuck. “Hmph.” That didn’t Keith from petting him like the cute little fluff ball he was.

The door opened not long after Keith got comfortable, and Shiro stepped inside, smelling of grease. “Keith?”

“Over here,” he raised his hand. Shiro walked over the couch, standing near the table in Keith’s view.

“Hey champ. What’s up? How was school?” he asked, sitting on the arm of the couch.

“School was fine. Um, actually, I have something to tell you,” Keith started nervously.

“Oh, okay.” Shiro uncrossed his arms and looked down at Keith, concern twisting his face.

“I’m going to homecoming.”

“Really? Did someone ask you?”

“Yes… I mean no, not exactly. Lance wanted me to come, and he bought me a ticket.” That sounded weird, so he tried to back track. “I mean, he was just suggesting it to me, and-”

“Keith. I get it,” Shiro chuckled. “This stuff happens when you make new friends. I’m glad you’re branching out.”

“Well, I got Pidge to come, too.”

“Why am I not surprised?” he asked.

“I’m going to need something to wear, though,” said Keith.

“We can go to the mall tomorrow after you get out of school. What’s the theme?”

“A night in Hollywood.”

“That should be easy then. I’m really proud of you, Keith. I think Lance is a good influence on you,” he teased. “Tell Pidge that I’ll drive the both of you there. Look at you both! Going outside!”

“Oh shut up.” Keith was grateful. Shiro could have made it a bigger deal than he needed to, and he didn’t.

“So… Lance huh? I mean, you could do much worse.”

“I’m going to stop you right there, because he and I are _just friends_.”

“Just wait on it. Allura and I were just friends once,” said Shiro.

“You brought her home! I know because I found silver hair in the shower the next morning.” Keith threw a pillow at him, and Shiro caught it.

“Excuse you, I am a gentleman, I would never.”

Keith laughed. Well, at least that was out of way.

 

Shiro drove them to the mall on Wednesday, and Keith was not prepared for _so many options_. He didn’t know dress shirts came in so many colors and styles. This is exactly why he never went shopping for clothes other than the stuff he was comfortable with.

“Shiro, why are there _so many_?” he asked, gesturing to the display of shirts neatly folded in squares.

“This is completely normal,” said Shiro calmly.

Keith made his way to the section of shirts he was familiar with: the black ones. Shiro coughed, and Keith snapped his head in his direction. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“I know that cough. That’s your judgmental asshole cough.” Keith crossed his arms and pouted. “What?”

“Don’t you think you should try for...? I dunno… some color?” He suggested, pointing to the rainbow of shirts next to him.

Keith sighed. Of course, he couldn’t just stay in his comfort zone. He thought about it; wearing a colored shirt would be exactly what Lance would want him to do. He made his way back to the display Shiro was standing at, browsing over the shirts. He went for the blood red shirt at the far end, but stopped himself. That was another comfort color. He browsed the shirts again, stopping over a sapphire blue shirt. It was a pretty color, and one Keith never really wore before. He found a medium and held it up for Shiro to appraise.

“I like that!” Shiro approved. “Now for dress pants.”

Keith groaned.

“Hey, you wanted this.”

“I know.”

They made their way to the pants section, looking through racks upon racks of dress pants, of all colors. Keith never thought he’d see maroon dress pants in person, but there really was a first time for everything. He made his way to the black pants rack, and this time Shiro didn’t protest. He pulled a pair that was his size and held them against his legs.

“What do you think?” he asked Shiro, looking down at his legs.

“Those seem like the right shade,” he said, holding out Keith’s new shirt for a comparison.

“Shiro, it’s black.”

“But there are different shades of black. Your shirt is in the cool family, so your black should match. You don’t want a warm black.”

That literally meant nothing to Keith. “You really got to stop watching those makeover shows on TLC.”

“Hey, Allura got me hooked,” Shiro countered.

“Is this the same Allura that yelled at you to switch the channel to Deadliest Warrior?”

Shiro blushed, and Keith was suddenly reminded of Lance’s comment about fragile masculinity.

“You know, I think you’re right, this is the perfect cool shade to match my shirt. Thanks, Shiro.” Keith smiled, and Shiro beamed.

“No problem. Let’s just find you a belt and we’ll get out of here,” Shiro made his way over to the belt rack, and Keith groaned again.

“I hate belts, Shiro,” Keith protested, looking at the belts in disdain.

“You need _something_ , Keith.” Shiro walked around the rack. “What about suspenders?”

Keith always liked the look of suspenders, and if he looked too dorky he could just wear them at his sides when he got to the dance.

“Sure, I can handle those,” said Keith. Shiro grabbed a black pair and handed them to Keith, who draped them over his pants hanger.

They made their way to the check out, and Keith put everything on the counter. When the total came up, Keith blanched, but Shiro didn’t even blink an eye. He swiped his card and soon they were out in the parking lot with a bag of Keith’s new clothes. They got in the car, and Keith put his bag on the floor between his legs.

“Now the last thing you need are shoes,” said Shiro, as they drove home.

“Shouldn’t we have gone to the store in the mall?” asked Keith. “I mean, do I really need dress shoes? No one is going to be looking at my feet.”

Shiro chuckled. “Look under your seat.”

Keith raised an eyebrow, but did what he was told, pulling out a black shoe box. He looked down in disbelief, then back up at Shiro, who nodded. Keith opened the box and looked down to see galaxy patterned Vans.

“These…”

“Were the shoes you saw a few months ago?”

“Yeah, but they didn’t have my size!”

“I ordered them from a friend. They were _supposed_ to be your Christmas present, but since it’s a special occasion…” he trailed off, smiling.

Keith was amazed. “Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome Keith.”

 

So with Keith’s homecoming clothes purchased and ready for Saturday, all he had to do now was wait. Pidge told him she dug through her closet for something, saying she was going to “Pretty in Pink” it. (“Do you even know how to sew?” “I can learn.”) He told her Shiro would drive them, so they agreed to take the pictures, (because of course there would be pictures), at her house. Keith was surprisingly excited.

Saturday couldn’t come soon enough.

 

They had a quiz on Friday, so Keith wasn’t expecting to meet up with Lance, but he got a text from him toward the end of the day asking him to meet.

 

 **Lance:** _Can you come to the library?_

 **Me:** _Sure_

Keith walked down to the library, wondering why Lance wanted to meet him there. He imagined a dozen scenarios, but they just didn’t seem likely. Walking through the doors to the back of the library, he went to the usual table where Lance was sitting, staring out of the window.

“Lance?”

He turned at the sound of his name on the first try. “Hey! You made it.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” Keith asked, sitting down.

“I’m not going to keep you long, I just wanted to talk,” said Lance.

“About what?”

“Well are you nervous?”

“Nervous about what?” This was turning out to be more like another game of twenty questions than a conversation.

“Nervous about meeting my friends.”

Oh. That.

Keith had completely forgotten that he was going to have his first chance to talk to the rest of the popular kids. His excitement for the dance now turned to nervousness.

“Well, um, I…”

“Hey! That’s why I’m here. You have nothing to worry about, alright? They’re all really nice. I’ve told them all about you,” said Lance, grabbing Keith’s hands out of his lap and holding them reassuringly. Keith looked down at them in horror, and snatched them back. Could Lance feel how clammy they were?

Lance looked down at his empty hands, slightly shocked. “Oh, gosh, sorry. Boundaries and ADHD… Anyway,” he looked Keith right in the eye. “They’re gonna love you. Just be yourself and I promise you’ll be part of the ‘it’ crowd by the time we go back to school Monday. Okay?”

“Yeah… Be myself. Got it,” Keith mumbled. “Listen I- I have to go.” He kept his head bowed so Lance couldn’t see the obvious flush spreading from his neck. “Bye Lance.”

Keith rushed out of there, thankful Lance couldn’t see him hyperventilating. He didn’t know what was coming over him. It wasn’t that Lance made Keith uncomfortable. He had no problem with Lance holding his hands. In fact, he wanted to hold them. A lot.

That was the problem.

 

Lance looked down his hands, his mouth set in a hard line. He balled them into fists, letting them rest at his sides.

“Yeah,” he sighed, disappointed. “See ya Keith.”

 

Saturday night. Homecoming night. The night that everything Keith wanted would fall into place, or so he hoped. He looked at himself in the mirror, gelling his hair back as the final part of his ensemble. The blue shirt really brought out the gray in his navy eyes, and the suspenders worked. Everything seemed right, he looked good, but he couldn’t help but worry. Would Lance like what he was wearing? Would Lance think he looked good? Why was he thinking of Lance all of a sudden? His opinion didn’t matter, Keith told himself. Yet, it did, and so now Keith was fidgeting, thinking of how Lance would react to his “cleaned up” look.

Keith stepped out of the bathroom and walked into the living room. Barry walked up to him, trying to rub himself again Keith’s legs. Keith hopped out of the way, nearly falling against the tan wall.

“Sorry Barry, no petting, I can’t get your fur on my outfit,” he apologized to his cat, who _sneered_ at him and walked into the kitchen.

Shiro stood up from the couch where he sat, waiting for Keith to get out of the bathroom. He whistled low at Keith, pulling out his phone. “Well don’t you clean up nicely?”

“Shut your fuck,” he muttered. The anxiety was stronger than ever, and Keith had to take a few deep breaths to regulate his irregular heartbeat.

“I’m just teasing, cuz,” Shiro said. “You look great. Those shoes are a perfect match.”

“Yeah, I admit you have good taste.”

“Score! That’s a few pseudo-dad points for me!”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You still keep track?”

“Damn right I do. I earn those points fair and square.” Shiro snatched his keys off the table. “You ready to go pick up Miss Katie Holt?”

“Totally.” Keith smirked.

“Let’s go.”

 

They stopped the Holt household, where Pidge and her parents stood outside, waiting for them. Keith love Pidge’s dress. It was green with a slightly poofy skirt and had lace vines on the sleeves and neckline, spreading over the bust to the top of the skirt. It looked like something a fairy would wear- making her look pure, natural, innocent, but also like a force of nature- beautiful but not to be messed with. Very Poison Ivy-esque. Fitting.

“You look amazing!” he exclaimed, hugging her.

“I should say the same. Blue’s a good color on you.”

“Thanks. That’s not a Molly Ringwald outfit though.”

“Well, I tried, but mom hated my creation, so she went out and bought this. But she let me keep the extensions,” she said, pointing to the straight strands of green hair clipped to either side of her wild hair. “Suspenders are actually not nerdy on you, I’m impressed.”

“It was either these or a belt,” he told her, shuddering.

“You _hate_ those.”

“ _Exactly_.”

They posed for a few pictures, most of them silly and fun, and a couple for official record.

“Your brother would love that dress,” Keith whispered in her ear, as he stood behind her for the millionth time.

“Your mom would love that shirt,” she whispered back.

They were finally done with pictures, so they headed to Shiro’s car so they would leave for the dance.

“Have fun!” Mrs. Holt called to them.

“We will!” Pidge replied, getting into the car. Keith got in after, electing to sit in the backseat with her. They drove to the school, and Keith was practically shaking with excitement. Or was it anxiousness? Either way, they were going to have a great time.

They pulled up to the side of the school with the gym, where everyone was entering. Shiro got out from the front and opened the back door, letting out Pidge and Keith like a chauffeur. They linked arms, holding out their tickets.

“I’ll be back at eleven!” said Shiro, getting into his car.

They waved him off as he pulled away, walking to the entrance, which had a red carpet and red rope dividers, like a real event. The doorway had a black and white balloon archway around it, which was pretty cool, Keith had to admit. Is this what proper school events looked like?

With their tickets checked off, they stepped inside the dim gym, music pounding in their ears. A crowd of people were already there in the middle of the gym, dancing.

“Wow, it’s loud!” yelled Keith.

“I know!”

They made their way towards the dance floor, looking for anyone familiar. Keith spotted Hunk off to the side by the retracted bleachers, so he dragged Pidge in that direction.

“Hey, you’re Hunk right?” asked Keith, slightly intimidated. Hunk was the school’s star linebacker, and Lance’s best friend. His sheer size was no joke.

“Yeah! Isn’t this fun? The DJ they picked this year is awesome!” he exclaimed, breaking out into a smile. Despite his mean appearance, he was super friendly, which made Keith’s nerves a little calmer.

“Sure is! Say, um, have you seen Lance?” Keith glanced over the crowd but couldn’t make out any uniform shapes.

“Oh, he’s over there, leading the Single Ladies dance line.”

Sure enough, the crowd parted and in the middle there was a line of girls, led by Lance, dancing to “Single Ladies”. His bright white smile glinted under the lights centered on them from the DJ booth, as he jutted out his legs and shuffled, pumping out his arms. He looked like he was having the time of his life. Keith couldn’t help but notice the dark red shirt he was wearing, along with a tight black vest that made his waist seem smaller and his shoulders look broader, in a good way. He was an athlete, after all. Lance seemed to catch his gaze, and he stuck his tongue out at Keith, knowing he was watching. Keith’s heart thumped against his ribcage, and not because of the Monster he managed to sneak this afternoon. Lance looked good, even when he was goofing off. But that was just Lance. Lance always looked that good.

Right?

After the song ended, Lance strode over to their little huddle. “Keith! You actually here.” He gave Keith a once-over, still smiling. “And _wow_. You look good. I didn’t think anyone under thirty could pull off suspenders but it suits you.”

Keith should have been at a constant state of blushing at this point, as his cheeks turned pink, thankfully unnoticeable in the dim gymnasium. “Thanks.”

“How do you guys know each other?” asked Hunk, who was slightly confused as to why his best friend was so chummy with someone he’d never really seen before.

“This is Keith! He’s the one I wanted you meet, remember?” Lance said, nudging him.

Recognition dawned over Hunk’s face. “Oh! Yeah, I remember. Hey, can I, uh, talk to you for a second?” He pulled Lance, who was still smiling at Keith, away.

Keith looked down at Pidge nervously. Did he do something wrong?

 

“ _That’s_ your tutor? But I thought he was all meek with doe eyes,” he said, making circles with his fingers and holding them up to his eyes. Hunk was the only other person that knew Lance was struggling with math, and assumed Keith would be very nerdy and not…”Lance, he’s hot.”

“I know!” Lance exclaimed.

“Lance…”

“I told you, he’s just a friend. He wants to be part of our crowd and I’m helping him. He’s a good guy Hunk, and he deserves it.” Lance glanced back at Keith, who was standing there awkwardly. _He’s probably worried_ , Lance thought, frowning. He didn’t want Keith to worry about anything.

“I’m just making sure you’re not doing this for the wrong reason,” admitted Hunk.

“Trust me Hunk,” he said, patting him on his large forearm. “Please?”

“Okay. But don’t get in over your head, I know how you are when you’re excited.”

“I’ll be fine. Now let’s go back before they think we’re conspiring against them.”

 

Hunk and Lance came back, and Keith relaxed. “Everything cool?”

“Yeah, I was just asking Hunk where the rest of our friends were. They’re fashionably late as always,” Lance joked. He looked down at Pidge, who stood next to Keith with her arms crossed. “You’re Pidge, right? Keith told me about you.” He stuck out his hand.

She uncrossed her arms, trying to warm up to them. “Oh? He’s been around you so much I though he forgot about me.” She shook his hand, albeit reluctantly.

“He would _never_ , you’re like a sister to him!” Keith paled. That was a sensitive detail.

“Awww, Keith!” She looked up at him with genuine surprise. Keith never really told her because the death of her brother was still a tough subject, and he avoided making her more emotional than she wanted, but she was practically his sister.

“It’s true,” he said, ruffling her hair.

After their little moment, Hunk piped up. “You’re in my physics class, right?” he asked Pidge, pointing at her. “You designed the only stable bridge for the project last week. That was amazing.”

“Thanks! I still can’t believe it worked.”

“Did you search something or did you come up with it on your own?”

“Come with me to the punch bowl and I’ll tell you,” she said, walking away from Lance and Keith. Hunk followed, leaving them behind.

“Your friend is a bigger nerd than you are,” observed Lance.

“She’s creative, to say the least. She’s the epitome of that Jurassic Park quote,” Keith replied, watching her leave. Now he and Lance were alone, and that left Keith with mixed feelings.

“So, do you want to dance?”

Mainly fear.

“Dance… w-with you?” Keith swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Well, I meant like in general. The music is pretty good this year. DJ Coran is the best we’ve had yet,” he said, pointing up to the guy with the bushiest ginger ’stache Keith had ever seen.

 _Of course that’s what he meant._ “I don’t really dance.”

“Boo, you whore.”

“Mean Girls, really?”

“Oh come on, it’s fetch.”

“Stop trying to make fetch happen, Lance.”

“Ha! So you do have a soul.”

“Hardy har.” Keith wanted to change the subject to something, anything. “So, red? You’re not afraid of looking like a certain furry character?”

“I needed something to match my nails.” He held out his hands for Keith to see, and sure enough, his nails were coated in sparkly red nail polish.

Keith raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t give me that look. I had Ororo pick out a color and she helped paint.”

“Do you make all of your decisions based around a kindergartener?

“Only the important ones.” There was that damn wink again.

“Uh huh.”

Lance pulled out his phone, checking for messages. “Hey! My friends are here! Come on,” he grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him to the other side of the gym, where a group of students stood against the bleachers. They were members of the football and track team, and the cheerleaders. All of the most popular kids in one place.

And Keith was about to meet them.

“Hey guys!” Lance greet them with a warm smile. He placed his hand on Keith’s lower back, and Keith had to fight the urge to flinch away.

_It’s just a hand._

“This is my friend Keith. He wanted to meet you all.”

_Should I run now?_

“Hi.”

One of the boys stepped forward, and Keith recognized him as Jamie Banks, the quarterback. “Nice to meet you, Keith. Lance would not stop talking about you. It’s nice to finally see what all the fuss is about.”

“Um, thanks?” Should he be flattered?

One of the cheerleaders, Gabby, and her girlfriend greeted him next, and soon he was acquainted with all of them and their significant others. Overall, they seemed very friendly and welcoming. He even made them laugh.

“So Keith… You want to come to the Halloween party I’m throwing on Saturday?” asked Jamie.

Keith looked at Lance, who was nodding excitedly.

“I’d love to.”

“Cool. I’m sure Lance can give you the address of the place. It was nice meeting you.” He turned to his date, and led her to the dance floor.

“Come on, dance with me pretty boy,” said Lance, pulling him on to the dance floor.

“This next song was requested by the guy with the pretty red nails, because you don’t need dollar bills to have fun tonight!” Coran announced. The beat of “Cheap Thrills” began, and Lance perked up.

“Yes! He’s playing the song!” Lance cheered.

_Come on, come on, turn the radio on._

“What, are you just gonna stand there?” Lance asked, rolling his hips. “Or are you chicken?”

Keith felt his competitive urges rising, so he decided to play along.

_"Til I hit the dance floor, hit the dance floor."_

Keith stepped forward, cocking out his leg and pivoting it back and forth, hand on his knee. Lance responded by pressing a hand into his chest and bending backwards. Impressive.

_"I got all I need. No I ain't got cash."_

Keith reached out and grabbed Lance by the ends of his untied bowtie, pulling him up. He held on, rolling his body experimentally. Lance smirked.

_"I ain't got cash, but I got you baby."_

Grabbing his hand, Lance spun Keith away from him, holding him out at arm’s length.

_"Baby I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight."_

“ _I love cheap thrills!_ ” The crowd shouted.

They laughed, realizing they didn’t respond.

_"Baby I don't need dollar bills to have fun tonight."_

“ _I love cheap thrills_!” They shouted along with the crowd.

Shimmying his shoulders to the beat, Keith moved closer to Lance, who was nodding his head. He went old school, putting his hand on the back of his head, grabbing his right leg and popping his back. That made Lance bark out a quick laugh. Lance in turn wiggled back and forth, like a snake. It was all fun and silly, and Keith really didn’t take himself seriously. He didn’t really care if people saw him, because he was too busy watching Lance. His smile lit up the room, and it made Keith warm inside, like a good cup of hot chocolate.

Lance grabbed him one last time towards the end of the song, spinning him around and around and around. He let go, and Keith spun, tripping on his feet. Swinging his arms to try and regain balance, he managed to hook his fingers in Lance’s vest, stopping himself from falling, but also pulling himself close to Lance’s chest.

“Well, aren’t you clumsy?” Lance teased, peering down at him.

With deep blue eyes. And a pretty smile. Lips that looked soft as satin. He could just lean in and-

_Oh my god I’m in love with Lance McClain._

His heart wanted to burst from the confines of his chest as he realized how close he had come to kissing Lance. _Lance_. Way out of his league LANCE.

“Yeah, um, that’s my bad.” He pushed himself with way more force than necessary but he had to get away. Where was Pidge?

“I knew you could dance,” said Lance with a satisfied smirk.

Keith scanned the crowd for Pidge, ignoring Lance completely. If he didn’t hear him, he didn’t exist. Finally he saw here, chatting with Hunk and a girl from the yearbook committee. Keith could only tell because she had a camera around her neck. He left Lance and walked over there quickly.

“Keith? _Keith?_ ”

Lance’s cries of his name faded out by the time he got to Pidge. He put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention, and she turned to greet him, but was stopped by Keith, who grabbed her and pulled her to the door that led outside.

“Hey!” she protested. “What’s your problem man?”

Keith breathed heavily, saying nothing.

Her eyes went round. “Keith. Are you okay?”

He nodded.

“What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he mumbled.

“Then why’d you drag me out-”

“I’m in love with Lance.”

She stared at him, eyes slowly narrowing until they were just slits. Eyes back to normal, she tilted her head to the side. “You’re just realizing this _now_?”

“Katie,” he groaned.

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry. Are you going to tell him?”

Eyes bugging, he practically screeched: “No! _Are you kidding?_ I can’t. Lance is out of my league.”

“Is he? I mean you guys are both popular now, you met his friends. I’d say you’re on the same level.”

“No way. Lance is… _Lance_. And I’m just me.” He held his face in his hands dramatically. “Besides, there’s no way he’d feel the same way. I’m just… better off burying my feelings.”

“You don’t know that,” she told him, placing her hand comfortingly on his arm.

“I’m not willing to take the risk.”

“Fine. Just don’t beat yourself up, okay? It’s just… a crush. I’m sure it will be gone by the end of the month,” she assured him.

“I hope so. God, why me?” He threw his head back, staring up at the night sky.

“Feelings suck,” she agreed.

“I didn’t know you had any, Pidge.” That earned him a punch to the shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go back in. I think Lance was looking for you.”

Oh boy.

 

The dance ended faster than Keith expected. Of course, the last number was a group dance that Lance shoved him into, which he couldn’t even remember the name of (The Cupid Slide? The Cha-cha shuffle?). Aside from his sudden realization of feelings, he had a great time. He seemed almost normal around Lance, despite all the grueling, pining thoughts he had while they were dancing. He hoped Pidge was right, that it would pass. It made him feel weak and vulnerable.

They rushed out to Shiro, who was waiting for them at the entrance. They said goodbye to Lance and Hunk, who drove together, and were parked a couple cars down. Keith’s heart fluttered with every smile Lance threw at him, and now he just felt slightly sick. What was he going to do when they went back to school and he had to see Lance _every_ _day_? Just thinking about it was torture.

They dropped Pidge off at home, and she gave Keith one last reassuring hug.

“You’ll be fine,” she whispered, patting him on the back.

Leaving her house, they drove back to their apartment in silence, which Keith was thankful for. Not that he minded Shiro talking, he was just tired and had enough to think about. When they got inside, however, Shiro decided to bomb him with questions.

“So, did you have fun?” he asked, setting the car keys on the table.

“Loads. I actually _danced_ ,” he said, making a bee line for the fridge.

“Look at you! Was Lance there?”

“Yeah, he was.” He opened the freezer, looking for the one thing he needed right now.

“Did you guys… dance together?” Shiro eyed him suspiciously.

Keith pulled out a carton of Ben and Jerry’s, closing the freezer. “Just the group dances.”

“Uh, Keith?”

He stopped his search for a spoon. “Yeah?”

“What are doing?” asked Shiro.

“Just getting some ice cream,” he said innocently.

“Keith. You’re lactose intolerant.”

“It’s okay Shiro, I took my pills.” That was a lie, but Shiro didn’t need to know that.

“You only ever eat ice cream when you’re upset, is everything okay?” Shiro’s face settled into his “concerned dad” look, brows furrowing.

“I’m fine, Shiro.” He popped of the top, digging in with his newly found spoon. He stepped past him, heading for the couch.

“Are you sure? We can talk about it.”

Great, now he was using the Dad Voice.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, taking a big bit of ice cream.

Shiro eyed the back of Keith’s head, watching him eat with that same look of concern. “Okay. Don’t get ice cream on your clothes.”

There was no way any of that ice cream was going to miss Keith’s mouth. “Mmhmm.”

Shiro shook his head. He wasn’t going to force Keith to talk about it, but he figured it had to do with Lance. He’d leave it alone, for now. As long as he wasn’t chugging milk by the gallon again, Shiro didn’t really feel worried.

“Good night Keith.”

“’Night, Shiro.”

In the morning, Shiro woke up to Keith sleeping on the couch, clutching his stomach. The empty carton of Ben and Jerry’s sat on the table.

Keith had it _bad_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Quick shout out to Fira for helping me describe Pidge's dress.


	4. Private Fears in Public Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance have a conversation on a roof top
> 
> Private Fears in Public Places- Front Porch Step

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, trigger warning for mentions of death, birth, and underaged drinking.

So Keith tried his best to avoid Lance, but that didn’t work, considering he had to tutor him every day after school. Now to add to that, Lance insisted that Keith sit with him and the rest of the popular kids. It wasn’t even a gradual thing, Lance just pulled him to the table that Monday afternoon.

“Come on, Keith.” He dragged him away from Pidge as they were heading over to their usual table. All Pidge did in response was chuckle and shrug, earning her the finger from Keith. His dazzling smile still gave Keith butterflies, and Keith wanted nothing more than to exterminate them. Damn butterflies. Who did they think they were?

“You feeling okay?” Lance asked him as they sat down, Keith was wedged between Lance and Hunk, and sat across from Jamie and a couple track guys. He was focusing on eating and paying somewhat attention to the conversation of the table, which was the Halloween party Jamie was throwing. Apparently costumes were required, which meant Keith had to find something soon, and fast. He only dressed up with Pidge when he went to her house to marathon horror movies and give out candy. Usually their costumes were… nerdier, and never consisted of the sexy variety that he assumed was the normal thing to wear. At this point, he wasn’t above something like that. He just needed ideas.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“Your face is red. Do you have a fever?” He tentatively put a hand on Keith’s forehead, feeling for a temperature.

_Yeah, I’m lovesick._

“N-no, I’m just warm,” said Keith, trying to hide the panic in his voice. Hiding a crush was so much harder now that he knew what it was.

“It’s my fault, I’m like a giant teddy bear. No one is ever cold around me,” said Hunk apologetically.

“It’s true,” said Lance, who hadn’t removed his hand from Keith’s forehead.

Keith looked up at the hand. “Uh, Lance?”

“Yeah? Oh.” He took his hand away, looking slightly embarrassed.

“You know, you guys can get a room at my house,” Jamie teased.

With bugging eyes, Keith glanced over at Lance to gauge his reaction.

“Gross, man.”

_Gross. Of course._

“I don’t hook up at parties, besides Keith is so much better than that. We’re friends.” There was that smile again. “I’m excited to see everyone’s costumes.”

It occurred to Keith that Lance was directing the conversation away from that subject because of Keith’s disinterest in dating people, but he focused way too hard on the way Lance called them friends. Like he couldn’t see them as anything else. It hurt, but what else did he expect? Lance was only nice to him because he promised to help Keith become a better version of himself. Sure they were friends now, but Keith was sure he would dump him as soon as he didn’t need him for math, or if Keith no longer wanted to be popular. All the more reason to make an impression at this party, right? Show Lance what he was made of, that he could hold his own. That would impress him.

“Are you still keeping it secret, Lance?” asked one of his fellow track teammates, Brad (maybe?).

“Of course.”

“You should have seen his Frank-N-Furter last year, Keith!” Jamie chimed in. “It was a sight. Legs for days and a contour that could cut someone.”

It was a sight, all right. It was a sight Keith would think about for weeks. Just imagining it made his stomach flutter.

“You’re too kind, Jamie,” he said in his Tim Curry voice. “But seriously, I’ve had this planned for months, and it’s a real throw back.” That was the only hint Lance would give, and Keith started to wonder what trick Lance had up his sleeve. He didn’t go into much detail about it when they were talking, only that “no one would expect it.”

“What about you, Keith? Thought about something?” asked Hunk.

Keith paled. “I have a couple ideas, I’m still deciding.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, more so stretching the truth.

“Anything you come up with will look amazing,” said Lance, making Keith’s heart plummet. He had no idea how his words affected Keith. _No idea._

“T-thanks.” He was so hopeless.

 

Keith paced around his room, talking rapidly to Pidge over the phone. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Pidge. I have nothing. Everything either doesn’t fit, or is too nerdy.”

“Are you sure nerdy is a bad thing? I mean Lance went last year as one of the biggest cult classic characters ever.”

“Yeah, but it was sexy. I want him to see me as more that his work in progress tutor.” Sure Keith might have been a little hard on himself, but he wanted to be noticed, He knew this crush wasn’t going to go away anytime soon, so why not have fun with it?

“I really can’t help you there, man. I have no real concept of ‘sexy’.” Keith could practically hear the air quotes he knew she was making.

“Yeah, but you know what’s attractive,” he flopped onto his bed, sighing.

“Dress up as Laura Croft, I don’t know.”

“Actually…”

“Keith, no, it’s October.” He heard her blow out a frustrated breath. “You don’t have to show skin to be sexy. Just pick an attractive character and act it out with confidence. No one wants to see your pale ass legs anyway.”

“Hey!” he exclaimed, offended. “You have a point though,” he said in a smaller voice.

“I believe in you. You will be coming over the Sunday after to eat all this candy with me, right?” she asked.

“Wouldn’t miss it.”

“Go get ’em tiger.”

 

After giving up on his closet, Keith left his room to join Shiro in the living room, picking Barry off the counter before he knocked over the microwave again. (Yes, _again_ ).

“Whatcha watching?” Keith asked. It wasn’t a movie he recognized.

“It’s called Crybaby, it’s this old musical movie. Come sit and watch it with me,” said Shiro, patting the empty couch cushion next to him.

“Like Grease?” The characters on screen were all wearing leather jackets, and… was one of them pregnant? So, not Grease.

“Oh, nothing like Grease.”

A character with slicked back hair and dark eyes was suddenly dragged on screen, and wow, he had a jawline that could kill. Damn.

“Who’s that?” asked Keith, pointing at the screen.

“Wade “Cry Baby” Walker, leader of the drapes.”

“He’s hot.”

Shiro chuckled. “Of course he’s hot, that’s Johnny Depp.”

“ _That’s_ Johnny Depp?” Keith always thought Johnny Depp was hot, in a DILF way. Until he found out about him abusing his ex-wife. Yikes.

“Yeah. I swear, even in this his character isn’t normal. But right off the bat he’s the hot one. Even drives a motorcycle later.”

“Uh huh.” Motorcycle? Styled hair? Leather jacket? Looked like Keith found his costume. “Hey Shiro, do you still have that leather jacket you said was too small for you?”

Shiro shot him an amused smile. “Yeah, do you want to borrow it for that party on Saturday?”

Shit, so much for being sneaky about it. “Yeah.”

“I’ll dig it out of my closet. I think you’ll make a good Cry Baby. Will Lance be your Allison?”

Keith groaned inwardly. “Shiro…”

“Okay, I’ll stop.” Shiro held up his hands. “But I get to draw the tear drop on your face.”

“Ugh.”

 

So Keith had himself a costume, and it was even Pidge approved.

“Old school, I like it. Is Shiro really going to draw a tear drop on your face?” she asked.

“Yeah, he said it’s not Cry Baby without the tear. Something about the aesthetic of the character,” said Keith, closing his locker. They were on their way to lunch again, and Keith prayed that he could have this one day to just talk to Pidge. Balancing his friendship with her and hanging out with the popular kids was tough, but he made a promise and he intended to keep it. “I just hope I don’t look like a serial killer.”

“If you didn’t before, you don’t now,” she teased, which was more reassuring to Keith than playful.

“Thanks.” They stepped through the cafeteria double doors and went through the line as usual. It wasn’t before long that Lance called for Keith to come over to the table, and he had to ignore him, albeit reluctantly. Pidge snickered, she liked Lance but knew that it was hard for Keith to be around him all the time due to his growing feelings, but she was glad that her friend was choosing to honor his promise, as well.

They sat down, and Keith was barely into his first bite of mashed potatoes when Lance bounded over. “Hey Keith!”

Shit.

“Hey Lance.” The snapback was new, but it suited him, Keith observed. Everything seemed to suit him, much to Keith’s dismay.

“Are you going to join us today?” he asked, pointing a thumb in the direction of the table behind him.

“Um, I promised Pidge I’d sit with her today.”

Lance’s face dropped momentarily, before stretching back into that smile Keith seemed to never take his eyes off of. “Oh, yeah, that’s cool. I’ll still see you after school, right?”

“Three o’clock on the dot.”

“See you then,” he said, turning and waving, swiftly walking over to his table.

“That went a lot better than I thought.”

 

“So, Lance, you seem grumpy,” observed Jamie casually. Lance had just slumped in his seat after leaving Keith’s table. He was scowling, which was not a usual look for him. His eyes were downcast, looking at his food. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were a little jealous.”

Lance looked up at him, slowly drawing his eyes away from his lopsided potatoes. “Why would I be jealous?” All eyes were on him, even Hunk was looking at him with reserved skepticism.

“Isn’t that his girlfriend?” Jamie asked, pointing over at them.

“No.” Lance and Hunk said at the same time, except Lance was a little more forceful. “She’s like his sister,” he continued. “Besides, she’s ace and he’s…” Lance didn’t know what Keith was on the sexuality spectrum, though now he was curious. “Not interested in people.”

“Well that’s a shame,” said Clark, another track member. “You’re obviously crazy about him, Lance.”

Lance sputtered in disbelief, rolling his eyes. “Pfffffft, nahhhh, me? Just because I decided to be friends with a new guy doesn’t mean I like him. That’s like if Gabby made friends with a girl in her class. It’s biphobic, guys,” he joked lamely.

“Yeah but Gabby is a relationship, and you’re not,” said Brad.

“We see how you look at him,” chimed in Trent, who sat on the other side of Hunk. “You get this dopey look on your face, and you smile a lot.”

“Hunk?” Lance turned his attention to his best friend, who had been silent during most of the conversation. “Are you believing this malarkey?”

“Well…”

Oh no.

“Hunk!”

“You’re doing that thing where you stretch out your words, like you’re lying,” Hunk told him honestly, making a stretching motion with his hands.

“Whaaaaaat, no I’m not.” Eyes wide, Lance slapped his hands over mouth. Fuck.

The guys looked at him with pleased smiles, knowing that they were right, to some degree.

“Even if I did, the guy is my friend. We’ve only really known each other for a couple weeks.” It was almost a month, now, but Lance wanted to seem nonchalant about it.

“You never told us how you started talking to the guy,” said Jamie.

Lance swallowed nervously. No one knew that he had tutoring with Keith, he hid it well. He wasn’t about to tell them the truth, which would reveal his biggest insecurity, so he lied.

“Oh, um, he’s in my math class, and I complimented him on his t-shirt,” he started. So far so good. “Then he asked me for help on one of the math problems, and you know me, I offered to tutor him.” The words were out before he had even complete realized what he was saying. Hunk shot him a look, which went unnoticed by the rest of the table.

“Is that where you’ve been every day after school?” asked Brad.

Lance was too deep to back out now. He had to commit to the lie. “Yeah! I’ve been helping him.” Keith would hate him if he found out he lied. “But don’t tell him, he’s insecure about it.” _Now you’re projecting onto him. Nice, Lance._

“So, what, you felt sorry for him? Is that why you wanted him to be part of the group?” Jamie’s eyes were full of judgement, and it was scathing.

“No! No,” Lance insisted. Lance didn’t feel sorry for Keith. It was more he saw himself in Keith, and wanted to help Keith become his best self. He meant what he said. “He’s really awesome, and I thought you’d get along.”

“It helps that he only has one friend, huh?”

Ouch.

Now Lance was starting to doubt himself. _Did_ he feel sorry for Keith? Maybe, at the beginning. But now everything was even, and they both had what they wanted. Lance really did see Keith as a friend, and a good one at that. They seemed to have this weird connection, as if bonding over their insecurities made them seem like they knew each other longer than the few weeks they had been seeing each other in that musty library. It did draw a sort of fondness from him.

“You’re an asshole, you know that?” Lance completely shifted the focus back to Jamie, hoping that would be enough to get off the subject. He didn’t like talking about Keith in a negative way.

“Sure, whatever,” he scoffed, flicking his potatoes into Lance’s lap. Lance retaliated with a busted ketchup packet, and Hunk had to jump in and stop them before they accidentally started a food fight. _Again._

That was the end of that.

 

Keith found himself dreading the tutoring session. It was weird, to see Lance and have all these jumbled feelings _and_ for him to have no idea felt like Keith was harboring a dirty little secret. He hoped to just act normal around him, like when he hated his guts.

“Hey Kit Kat.”

Shit.

“Kit Kat?” asked Keith, amused. “I thought you didn’t like chocolate?” What was that tone of voice? Was Keith _flirting_? Abort! Abort motherfucker!

Lance laughed, like it was just a joke. “I like Kit Kats. Just don’t ever give me Mounds. I hate coconut.”

“So should I call you Almond Joy?” Keith decided being playful was much less suspicious than sitting there like he had something to hide, so he just rolled with it.

“I’m debating on if that’s racist,” said Lance, and Keith snorted. Embarrassed, he covered his mouth, like he wanted to trap it, but it was too late.

“You’re covering your dimples when you do that. I’m sure someone wants to see those, you know.”

_Hopefully you._

_Definitely me._

“I know,” he said, lowering his hands to his lap. “It’s still weird.”

“Plenty of people have weird laughs. That just makes them unique. We can’t all laugh like a pretty British woman,” Lance told him, posing himself like a proper lady.

“Or like those stock image salad ladies,” countered Keith.

“Exactly!” Lance clapped his hands together, and it echoed loudly around the library. Keith giggled while Lance looked like he was going to blow up from embarrassment.

“I think we should do our math.”

“Yeah.”

 

So things seemed pretty normal, despite the slight ache in his heart when he saw Lance randomly and he just happened to catch his eye. Or the dreams that left Keith a little more excited in the morning than he was used to. He hid his emotions well. Practice makes perfect, Keith figured. Being numb to your mother’s death really helped.

The party was just a couple days away, and Keith felt more at ease about it than the dance. He wanted to have fun, chat with people. It was all part of the popularity deal, and he was read to commit. He was lucky that Pidge was so understanding. She could have joined them, but she was very adamant about her status as someone under the radar. Besides, she was already busy, so that left Keith to go by himself. She wanted him to be happy, and he appreciated that more than she knew. He didn’t feel quite like a foreign invader to Lance’s group anymore, and was really warming up to everyone. So far Hunk was his favorite person outside of Lance, because he was just so nice and so damn funny. Jamie also gave off this no nonsense vibe that he liked, and got along with. Sometimes the girls would join them, and they adored him. Gabby offered to color his hair once, which he politely declined, but that led to a ten minute conversation about the colors she and Cassie had done in the past. He considered himself a good listener, and learned a lot about everyone. Still, none of that even came close to the new amount of information he’d learned about Lance, which he soaked up like a sponge.

Keith loved being popular, and not in that vain, self-centered way. He felt like he finally found his niche. It was nice, to be surrounded by people that cared for each other, and to be a real part of that was so satisfying. His mother would be proud, that was certain.

The day before the party, Lance had asked him about his costume, and since Lance was playing the secret game, Keith would too. He called him after school that Friday when he got home, since they had another quiz and therefore didn’t need a study session, being annoyingly persistent.

“Come ooooooon, just tell me!” Lance demanded.

“Nope.”

“Just do it.”

“Nah.”

“Why are you like this?” Lance groaned.

“You know you love me,” Keith teased.

There was a little silence on both ends, with a red faced Keith on one, and a sputtering Lance on the other. Neither of them knew about their other’s embarrassing reactions, and Lance was the first to bounce back.

“You’re good to me Keith, but I deserve better,” he said, carrying on the conversation normally.

“That’s why I’m not telling you, you _doubt_ me.” Keith had to be careful of his words. That was close.

“Can’t you give me a hint?”

Keith pondered. Should he throw him a line?

“It’s sort of… retro,” said Keith.

“Is it _retro_ retro, or like… nineties retro?”

“Nineties.” Technically, that’s when the movie came out, so it wasn’t exactly misleading. “Now you have to tell me something about yours.” This almost sounded like a dirty conversation, and he really need to get his mind out of the gutter.

“It’s a character,” Lance put it simply.

“That’s vague.”

“Well no shit. You didn’t give me much either.”

“Touché.”

Keith rolled over on his bed, kicking his feet into the air and resting on his stomach. Now he felt the real school girl gossip experience. “So how are you getting there?”

“I’m riding with Hunk. We’re like the unofficial safe drivers of the night.”

“Really? How does that work?”

“It’s a lot to explain. Most people get dropped off, and the ones that don’t, if they’re a bit on the intoxicated side, I drive them home in their car, and Hunk picks me up. It’s a pretty sound system.” Lance seemed pretty proud of himself, as he should be. Keith was pretty impressed.

“You don’t drink at all?”

“Nope. I have my reasons,” he said, before Keith could ask him.

“Huh.”

“Are you taking your bike?”

“Yeah.” It seemed appropriate since it was integral part of his “character”, but now he wondered how he’d get home.

As if Lance read his mind, he told him: “Hunk can put your bike in the trunk, if you get a little carried away. It’s your first party, I wouldn’t blame you.” Keith shouldn’t have felt embarrassed, but that comment just reminded him of how lame he actually was.

“Um, thanks.”

“No problem. Are you excited?”

Keith could honestly say he was very excited. His costume was right, he felt confident around these people. All he had to do was show Lance who he could really be, without his help.

“Yeah. Definitely.”

 

The day of the party had arrived, and Keith was actually not nervous. Everything went well, from the costume’s final touches (he etched Cry Baby onto the back of his jacket with washable white fabric paint), to styling his hair exactly right, down the single hair falling down across his forehead. The only thing that made some trouble was the tear drop, (which took two tries and a lot of scrubbing), which hopefully didn’t bother his smooth skin (thanks to a face mask he decided to invest in), but it came together, and Keith was pretty proud. He looked sexy.

“Are you going to keep admiring yourself, or are you going to head out to this party?” asked Shiro. Keith had been admiring himself in the hand held mirror for the past five minutes, looking at his face from different angles. He was unaware of his jawline up until now, and he couldn’t help but feel a little full of himself.

“Shhhhhh, Shiro. I might never look this good again,” he said, pursing his lips together in a fishy face.

“Okay, Fabio, get going. Lance is probably waiting for you.” Shiro knew that any mention of Lance suddenly gave Keith this little kick of motivation, and so Keith was already on his way out the door.

“Bye Shiro!”

“I’m going to call you later, let me know if you decide to stay somewhere else tonight.” Keith ignored the sly implication in his voice, and closed the door behind him.

It was Party Time.

 

Keith should have known the party would be in a more upper class neighborhood, as he looked for the house, driving slowly up the street he was given. No one could through a party in a normal house. The houses here were farther apart, so a noise violation was less likely compared to, say, Lance’s neighborhood.

He found the house, which was well lit and huge. Parking his bike, he walked up to the white wood door with stain glass, and knocked. He was at least a half hour late, but Keith figured that was normal. Fashionably late and all that.

The door open with Jamie answering, dressed in a sloppy rendition of Hannibal Lector. His bald cap with wispy hairs was askew, like it was falling of due to some hardcore dancing. “Keith!” he shouted, muffled by his mask. “Come in, man. I love your costume.” He ushered him in, patting him on the back. There was music pumping from the expensive looking stereo equipment mounted on the fireplace in the living room, were quite a few guys were dancing. No girls, which surprised him. Surely there had to be a few here, right?

“The girls are upstairs with Lance.”

Damn, was everyone psychic?

“Upstairs? Why?” Keith felt a little jealous, even though he knew that Lance wasn’t doing anything suspicious.

“He’s giving the girls the safety talk like he does with every party,” Jamie explained, finally pulling off his mask, and adjusting his “hair”.

“Safety talk?”

“Oh man, he never told you?”

“No…” Keith eyed him expectantly.

“Ever since something happened to his sister in college, he always pulls us aside and makes sure that if anything is gonna happen, it’s consensual.”

“Oh, god. Was she…?”

“No, thank god, but they tried. It’s something that Lance is pretty passionate about, so we listen. It can be annoying, but it comes from a good place, so we always go with it.”

Wow. Another layer of respect was added to the already growing stack in his head. Lance somehow _added_ to his attraction for him. He was so kind and selfless, and Keith was so _not_ deserving.

“Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen and get you a drink before Lance comes down.” Jaime led him through the living room, past the dining room, where some of the guys were playing cards, to the kitchen, where he finally saw a familiar face.

“Hey Keith,” greeted Hunk. He was dressed as the Eleventh Doctor, complete with a small red fez. He pulled out a pan of what smelled like brownies from the oven, filling the room with a delicious smell. “Lance is already upstairs, if you didn’t already know.”

Jaime had a red solo cup in hand, already pouring vodka into it. “Already told him.”

“Cool.”

Keith eyed all the Halloween themed treats laid out on the granite top counter. Everything looked so good and Keith sudden felt starved. He reached for a brownie pan that was wrapped in green cellophane, but Hunk suddenly slapped his hand way.

“Ow.”

“Sorry, but those are for the potheads. I’m sure you don’t want to be high before you get to see Lance,” he teased. Did Hunk know?

“Yeah, he would not shut up. ‘Make sure Keith doesn’t do anything to crazy. I want him to appreciate the full genius of this costume’.” Jamie mocked. He finished pouring a different liquid into the cup, and drew a sloppy K on it before handing it over to Keith. “Try this.”

Keith took a tentative sip. The taste was fruity, but as he swallowed, a slight warmth, like a liquid burning filled his throat. It wasn’t unpleasant, though.

“It’s good,” he complimented, staring at the purple liquid.

“Thanks man. Help yourself. We got beer and some other stuff, so don’t be shy.”

“Be a little shy, if you want,” said Hunk, nudging Jamie like a trouble maker. “There’s pizza too, if you want real food.”

Keith nodded, still holding his cup.

Suddenly, the doors opened, and Cassie, Gabby’s girlfriend, walked in. She was dressed like a popular character from a show that should have ended a few seasons ago. She could almost completely pass for a dude: her chest was flatted under her t-shirt and flannel, and a light five o’clock shadow (obviously drawn on) adorned her jaw and around her mouth. Her blonde pixie cut was spiked up, and even her eyebrows were drawn heavier. Her hand rested against the (fake?) knife at her hip.

“Keith! Oh man you look amazing!” She appraised him before giving him a hug. “You’re the first Cry Baby I’ve seen, nice choice. Very culty.”

“What’s up Cas?” asked Jamie. “Lance done with his talk?”

“Yup. He’s actually looking for you, Keith. He heard your bike and got a little distracted.” She winked, and Keith blushed. Did she know too? Was he just that obvious? “I just came to get a drink for the Cas to my Dean. It’s funny, cuz my name is Cas but I’m Dean,” she giggled. “I had no idea you were in here though.”

“Should I- I mean, can I-?”

“Just go, Keith,” Jaime ordered, a smile skirting his lips.

Keith nodded silently, setting down his drink and rushing out to the living room.

“So can we agree that they’re both oblivious?”

“Yep.”

 

Lance bounded down the stairs, after leaving the bathroom from a quick hair check. He had straightened it a little for the full affect, and was now ready to meet Keith.

_I hope he likes it._

 

Keith shamelessly jogged through the dining room, and into the living room. There were more people in the living room now, so Keith shuffled his way through the people, staying close to the wall. There was a little pathway created by the long couch, so he was able to walk properly, which didn’t last, as he tripped over a snag in the rug. Fortunately, he fell into some very familiar arms.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Lance teased, helping him to his feet.

Freckles, like stars, dotted across the brown skin of his shoulders, contrasting well with the red and white of his jersey. Every new detail Keith noticed about Lance was like a punch to the gut, knocking the breath out of him. He was beautiful, and it wasn’t fair to Keith’s heart.

“Uh, who are you supposed to be?” Keith asked indignantly, breaking the mood. Lance’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull, clearly offended.

“Duh, look at my jersey.” Lance held it out for Keith to see. Keith looked at the Wildcats symbol, completely clueless. Lance rolled his eyes, turning around. The word “Bolton” was printed in big red letters above a large red number 14.

Keith was still pretty clueless. “Uh…”

“Troy!” Lance exclaimed, exasperated. “From High School Musical?”

“Oh, see I was more of a Camp Rock kid.”

Lance gave him the strangest look, a mix between shock and disgust, nose upturned. “How am I friends with you?”

“I bet you don’t even know who I am,” said Keith, daring him to argue.

“You’re some greaser character.”

Keith quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Man, I don’t know, okay?” He threw his hands. “You said nineties.”

“That was when the movie came out.”

“Oh you fucker.” Keith giggled. “I will say, you look like such a bad boy.”

“Maybe because I don’t want to be a good boy, anymore,” he said, almost flirty, walking his fingers up Lance’s jersey. That was pretty in character, right?

“Have you had anything to drink?” he asked.

“Nope.”

Lance spoke in an odd tone, as if he was being uncomfortably squeezed. His voice was higher, almost nervous. “Right, so you’re just… in character, yeah. I’ll go get you a drink. Be right back.” Lance ran off, leaving Keith to curse himself. He was coming on too strong, and he wasn’t even doing it in purpose.

Maybe he should just stay quiet.

“Hunk!” Lance burst through the kitchen doors. “I have a problem.”

“Does is start with a K and end with eith?”

“Yes.” Lance sighed. “I think he just flirted with me.”

“Oh?” He was intrigued, now. Hunk leaned against the counter, urging him to continue.

“I think he was just pretending to be his character, cuz I have no idea who he is, to tease me, and it just came of as flirty and I didn’t mind it? Like, at all? I mean, maybe I’m reading it wrong because he is strangely confident tonight and I just-”

“Let me stop you right there. You remember what you told me at homecoming, right?”

Lance stared at him.

“You’re helping him be the person he wanted to be, right? Maybe he’s just showing off,” explained Hunk simply. “You’re the one who insisted you were friends.”

“Maybe I like him.”

Now it was Hunk’s turn to stare. Sure, his friend was used to his flirty antics and crushes, but this seemed different, and unexpected.

“Are you sure?”

“I don’t know! I- I don’t! He’s so sweet and down to earth and he deserves a lot of things, Hunk.” There was that dopey look again, a lazy grin and almost shy eyes.

“Maybe you’re a little too invested in this whole thing. I know how you are when you’re excited.” Hunk maintained his serious expressing while popping an eyeball grape in his mouth. “Maybe you’re telling yourself you like him because you’ve been around him so much. There’s a syndrome for that, I’m sure.”

“I don’t need any psychology lessons, Hunk.” Lance leaned against the wall. “Maybe I’m just being dramatic.”

“You think?”

“Oh, shut your fuck.” Lance wouldn’t mind liking Keith, but would he even feel the same way? He had no idea if Keith was attracted to boys, and Lance knew better then to just bring it up. He was more tactful than he used to be. “I need to make him a drink before he thinks I left him.”

“Oh, his cup is right there,” said Hunk, pointing to the red solo cup with a poorly written “K” on the side. “Jamie made him a drink.”

“Oh, cool.” He grabbed the cup and started to make his way to the door.

“Lance, take some snacks!”

 

Keith watched his new friends dance from his spot against the stairwell, waiting for Lance to come back. He hoped that Lance wasn’t uncomfortable with his stupid flirting.

“Hey there, drape,” Gabby greeted him, adjusting her brown wig and halo. “Having fun?”

“Loads.” He was a little bored, if he had to be honest.

“I don’t see how, you’re not dancing and you don’t have a drink in your hand,” she said, swirling her own drink.

“Oh, Lance is getting me something.”

She tsked, shoving her own drink in his hands. “Try this.”

Keith gave her a strange look, before bringing the cup to his lips. Holy shit that was strong. He coughed. “What is that?”

“Not a light weight drink,” she winked. He offered her the cup back, but she declined. “Keep it.” She looked over to the small crowd of people dancing. “You should dance.”

“I’m not a good dancer,” he told her, taking a quick swig.

“You don’t have to be good. You just have to be loose.”

“I’ll look silly.”

“We all look silly. I’m dressed like a gay angel!” She flared out her trench coat and struck a funny pose. “Come on.”

She dragged him to the dance floor, where they started to dance. Keith was mostly just swaying to the song that was getting ready to end. He was careful not to spill his drink on the white tile floor. The song ended, and Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance” began to play.

Gabby’s eyes widened. “I love this song. I watched the video like, a thousand times.”

Keith liked the song too, it was one of his favorites.

“Show me what you got man!”

 

Lance walked into the living room and went straight for the spot he left Keith. “I don’t know what’s in this but Hunk said it was yours so-”

Keith wasn’t there.

“Keith?” He looked around the room, trying to find him. He spotted him near the edge of the dancing crowd, laugh and dancing with Gabby and Cas. He seemed to be having fun. The speaker blared a familiar tune, one Lance hadn’t heard in years but was very familiar with.

_“I want your love, I don't wanna be friends-”_

Lance watched Keith dance, if you could really call it that. He was doing the weird sharp movements reminiscent of the music video, but be was smiling and not at all uncomfortable. A weird feeling bubbled in his gut, and Lance couldn’t place what he was feeling. He continued to watch Keith dance.

_“I don’t wanna be friends-”_

He had no rhythm, but it was kinda cute.

_“I don’t wanna be friends-”_

Okay, so it was really cute.

_“I don’t wanna be friends-”_

His smile really showed of those dimples.

_“I don’t wanna be friends-”_

Lance wouldn’t mind sliding over there and just wrapping his arms around him, drawing him closer, touching their foreheads…

_“Want your bad romance!”_

It suddenly hit him like a ton of bricks.

He _really_ liked Keith.

Fuck.

 

He didn’t rush off to Hunk. In fact, he just stood there with his mouth slightly open. Keith finally looked in his direction, still grinning as he broke away from the two girlfriends. “Hey, Lance.” His eyes traveled down to the cup in his hand. “Oh, man, Gabby gave me hers. I should have told you.” He squeezed the empty cup. “But it’s all gone so it’s okay.”

“You drank something _Gabby_ gave you?” Lance groaned.

“Yeah, is that bad?” he asked, suddenly nervous.

“It’s not bad… She just has a high tolerance.” He gently took the empty cup and replaced it with the one he was holding. “Just stick to this. It’s like, ninety percent Kool-Aid.”

“Okay,” said Keith, taking a sip.

“Hunk made me bring you a snack, too.” Lance said, pulling out a Rice Krispy treat out of his basketball short pocket. “He doesn’t like anyone drinking on an empty stomach.”

“Thanks, man, you’re the best.” Keith took the treat, biting into it.

“We’re definitely taking you home,” said Lance, chuckling at Keith’s child-like behavior.

“Mhmm.”

Somehow Keith managed to be sexy and adorable in this same night. Lance wondered why the universe decided to be cruel to him.

 

The party went on, and Keith wasn’t shy to the dance floor. Lance joined him a couple times, and Keith was able to dance without thinking about how cute Lance was, or anything like that. He felt a little numb to the world, and his vision was slightly blurred. It was the ideal state for him not to be overthinking the entire time. Lance was completely sober, and watched Keith with a new sort of amusement. His heart beat a little faster than him, and he wondered if this would last. Crushes weren’t foreign to Lance, but this one came on so strong. He didn’t let his rapid fire thoughts hinder him from having fun. He could address his feelings later. He was more concerned that Keith was having a good time, which he really seemed to be.

Around eleven, Lance and Hunk started driving people home. Most of the people who drove lived within the neighborhood, so the trips were quick. Everyone else took Ubers, and the ones that didn’t really drink had their parents pick them up. All in all, the party went smoothly, and by midnight, Lance, Hunk, Keith, and Jamie were the last ones there. Hunk and Lance were on clean up duty, while Keith just sat on the stairwell, swaying back and forth. He watched Lance clean up the living room, dancing to the soft music playing. Lance swiveled his hips in a way that shouldn’t have been hot, but was, even in those bright ass basketball shorts.

“How you feeling over there, buddy?”

“Lovely.” Keith had gotten a little carried away, downing a drink made by Gabby on a dare. There might have been shots involved, he honestly couldn’t remember.

Lance smiled to himself. He warned him.

“Thanks for sticking around, Lance,” said Jamie, handing him a glass of juice.

“No problem man,” he said, downing it. “It was a lot of fun.”

“I bet it was,” he agreed, looking over at Keith. “Did he have fun?”

“I’m pretty sure he did, not that he’ll remember it,” Lance laughed.

“He’s a good guy, dude. I think you got yourself a lucky catch.”

The tips of Lance’s ears turned red. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Suuuuuure.” Jamie gave him a quick pat on the back. “I think Hunk’s just about done in the kitchen. I’ll go get him,” he said, taking the garbage bag from Lance’s hand. Lance stood there for a moment, hoping to god that Keith hadn’t heard that little conversation. He glanced over; he was still out of it. Thank Jesus.

Lance sat next to Keith on the stairwell, watching him still sway drunkenly. He was humming a song that Lance wasn’t familiar with, but Keith seemed to be enjoying himself. Out of nowhere, Keith laid his head on his shoulder, sighing contently. Lance froze, staying stock still. It felt like one of those sleeping animal situations, you move and everything would go bad.

Hunk chose to join them at that moment, raising his eyebrows. Lance held out his hands in a “what do you want me to about it?” way.

Hunk responded by pointing to his wrist and Lance understood. He gently poked Keith’s side.

“Hey, Keith, wake up,” he whispered.

“Hmm?” Keith mumbled, opening his eyes. He realized his face was _very_ close to Lance’s, and he jumped back a little, startled.

“Time to go.”

 

They squeezed into the front seat, Keith in the middle, since he was the smallest. His bike was in trunk bed behind them, which Hunk moved easily. He found himself drifting off again, resting his head on Lance’s shoulder.

Lance didn’t seem to mind. He just let it happen, and Keith would be sure text him tomorrow, apologizing.

 

Lance listened to Keith’s shallow breaths, observing the rise and fall of his chest. He looked peaceful as he slept. One of his hands rested against his leg, and Lance fought the urge to hold it. It was a picture perfect scene, the two of them snuggled up together. Any average eye would deem them boyfriends, without knowing the sad truth.

“So, where to?” asked Hunk.

Lance thought for a second. “My house.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

Hunk didn’t really need an explanation, because he trusted Lance, so he drove them there in silence.

 

Hunk dropped them off, leaving Keith’s bike parked on the curb. Lance helped a sleepy Keith up the stairs to his room, sitting him on the bed. Keith blinked, noticing his surroundings. “This isn’t my room.”

“No, it’s not. I figured I’d let you stay here for the night. I think Shiro would kill me if I brought you home shitfaced.”

Keith stretched. He felt something vibrate in his pocket. Pulling out what he hoped was his phone, he stared at the caller I.D. on the screen. “It’s Shiro.”

“I’ll take it. Rest.” Lance grabbed the phone, but Keith didn’t move. “Hey Shiro. Yeah, Keith’s okay. I brought him to my house. He’s a bit tired. His bike is here yeah, my friend Hunk- oh, yeah, okay. My moms don’t know he’s here but I promise it’s no problem. They’re actually asleep. Yeah, uh huh,” he put his hand over the mic. “Shiro says good night.”

“Night Shiro.”

“He said good night. Alright, well he’ll see you tomorrow. Thanks for letting him come. Oh, you’re welcome! Night!” He hung up, handing the phone back to Keith. “That went well.”

“What gives you the right to be so fucking lucky?” Keith muttered.

“Huh?” Did Lance hear him correctly?

Keith couldn’t pinpoint when the sudden wave of anger hit him, but now it was rumbling inside of him.

“You have a stable home, a stable family. Your moms are in love in a way I’ve never seen. I never had anything like that.” He spoke with the steadiness of a locomotive, despite the alcohol burning in his system. He was drunk, but not incoherent. And fully awake.

“Keith, are you okay?”

“I admired you for the past two years because you seemed to have all of your shit together. You’re liked by everyone, teachers love you, and you balanced sports and grades so well, before I even knew about your problems. It didn’t seem fair.”

“Keith…”

“And why? Why help me? You owe me nothing. You don’t even really need me as a tutor anymore, and yet you stick with me and call yourself my friend.” All of his insecure thoughts bubbled over like lava.

“Because I _am-_ ”

“Why don’t you just leave me like the rest of my family?” Keith was drunk and angry, and bitterness coated his tongue with every word. “I nearly lost Shiro to the war, and my mom, she never wanted me. She was glad to be on her deathbed, Lance.” There was venom in his voice now. “It feels like I just got Shiro back, and Allura is going to take him all for herself, and where does that leave me? ALONE. Alone a-fucking-gain.” It was all pouring out now, his mouth was a broken dam and his word flooded the room.

Lance was silent, sitting next to him and listening.

“My mother, she abused drugs and blamed me for everything. My father left her before I was born, after marrying her and promising her a good life. They were the power couple in high school, most likely to raise a nuclear family. He got her pregnant on prom night and the rest was history. Nine months later I was born, and I was the bane of her existence. She tried to be a good mother, but she was young. My father left her for law school and never looked back.” Keith wasn’t sure why he was telling Lance this now, but he just kept talking. “She got in with the wrong people, and she got sick. She let herself waste away rather than take care of me. I was _thirteen_ , Lance.” He blew out a breath. “I was lucky to have Shiro. He found out about me somehow, I don’t know, but my dad’s brother must’ve known, because he showed up when I was eight. He was the closest think I had to a real guardian, no one else cared, not even my maternal grandparents. He left for the war when I was ten, and I felt so betrayed. How could he leave me with her? But she pretended like everything was okay, showing me her yearbook and talking about how great high school life was. For some reason, I fell for it, and in the back of my mind I had this desire to be popular, to be like her, but better.

“Shiro came back from the war right before she died, and for the longest time he wasn’t the same. He lost his arm in a bombing incident, the same one that killed Pidge’s brother, his boyfriend. There were nights I would hear him screaming for _hours_ on end, he’d flinch if I touched his right side, and the name Matt would make him cry. It’s been four years, and Shiro finally seems happy. He has Allura, and I’m afraid that’s all he’ll want. He deserves to start a family and everything, and I feel so selfish for keeping him from that, but I’m so afraid of being alone, of being nobody.” Tears had been building up during his entire tirade, and Keith finally opened the floodgates, letting them fall.

The tears didn’t scare Lance. In fact, they didn’t stop him at all from cupping Keith’s face and pressing his lips to his forehead in a sweet kiss. “You are somebody, Keith. I shouldn’t even have to tell you that,” he said, looking deep into his navy eyes.

If Keith wasn’t on the verge of tipping over, his face would be on fire. He didn’t break eye contact, but said nothing, only opening his mouth slightly.

“Sorry, that’s how I comfort my sister,” said Lance, moving away. It was, but to Lance it meant a little more. He just didn’t want to scare Keith away.

“I- it’s okay,” Keith said in a surprisingly soft voice.

“You’re not alone, and I never want you to think that, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lance turned up his lips in a sweet smile. “You know what I do when I’m overwhelmed?”

“What?” asked Keith.

“I sit and watch the stars.” He moved to his window, opening it and stepping onto the roof.

Keith stared at the open window. Was he serious?

Lance poked his head in the room. “You coming?”

Keith sighed, standing and walking over to the window. He climbed through carefully, setting one foot at a time on the roof. He was still tipsy, and hoped he wouldn’t lose his balance. The roof under Lance’s window was surprisingly flat, which Keith could see making a good place to stargaze. How many times had Lance been out here? How many nights had Lance decided to just sit and watch the sky?

“Can I tell you something a little personal?” asked Lance, hugging his knees to his chest. Keith sat beside him.

“You might ask well,” Keith joked.

“I know you like to call me perfect and stuff, but it’s definitely not the truth. I’ve been working on myself for years. I am the way I am, I do these things because if I was any other way, I’d be a disappointment. My moms sacrificed so much for me to even be born, Keith. I was almost aborted because I caused complications. But my mom said no, she wanted her beautiful baby boy, and so I was born with the umbilical cord around my neck, and her placenta didn’t even detach. I nearly killed her, Keith, and I couldn’t… I didn’t want her to ever be disappointed over the sacrifice she made for me to live. The cancer was like… a punch to the throat. I never felt guiltier over anything.” Lance’s words were quick and sharp, with no hesitation.

“When I was finally diagnosed with ADHD, I blamed myself, like I was responsible for the way I was born. I thought I’d tear my family apart because from the beginning I was this problem child. That wasn’t the case, but still felt… I dunno, like I had to prove my worth. I know that’s probably a real fucked up thing to say, and I never told anyone the way I felt. But, I guess you can understand better than anyone.”

Keith stayed quiet, looking at the sky in the reflection of Lance’s eyes. Who knew that they were both so vulnerable to their insecurities? Looking at Lance now, he saw more than he did during that second chance meeting in the library. There was this depth to him, like Lance was the ocean and Keith was still discovering his parts.

“I guess I’m lucky to have the family I do, one that was built on acceptance from the very beginning.”

“What did your parents think of you coming out?” asked Keith. His mother never got the chance to find out that he was gay, and he always wondered, if she was in the right place, would she accept him?

“Oh man, it was like any other regular Tuesday. I just told them. My sister had a feeling, because I stared at the boys on her wall more than she did, but still chased after girls on the playground. They love to tease me, and say my options are endless,” he laughed. “But I don’t really feel that way. It’s more like… I’m looking for one specific type of person, and their gender really doesn’t matter.”

Keith briefly wondered if he fit Lance’s specific type of person. Lance was gentle and wonderful, and everything Keith could ever want in a boyfriend, yet he couldn’t see them together. Lance was just… not ready for Keith’s life. He was just too different, even if he accepted Keith’s tragic backstory. He’d leave him too.

All he could do was pretend: pretend not to care about him as he did, just pretend that all his jumbled feelings for Lance were practically imaginary. It would help him hurt less.

"Hey Keith. You know how we're getting back inside?" This sounded like the start of a joke.

"No, how?" he played along.

“In-tru-da window.” It was a lame attempt of recreating a joke, and Keith cringed.

“ _You_ watch Doctor Who?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Pfffft. You fucking nerd,” Keith snorted.

“Hey, fuck you" He shoved him playfully. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Sure."

There was a brief moment of silence.

"What’s your favorite movie?”

“Ghost Busters 2," he answered immediately.

“Oh? Why?”

"Because it’s the best. It has my favorite song.”

“What song is that?”

“Your LOOOOOVE keeps lifting me higher AND HIGHER," he shouted, giving himself a headache. His vision started to blur, and he swayed a little, feeling dizzy. A wave of tiredness wash over him, and he yawned.

Lance laughed. “Do you want to sleep?”

“Yeah.”

They climbed through the window, which Lance shut behind them. Keith practically collapsed on the bed, exhausted. He shrugged off the leather jacket, curling up into a fetal position.

Lance chuckled softly, picking up Keith’s jacket and hanging it over the chair. Lance was just about to offer him a blanket when he heard soft snoring coming from Keith. He shook his head, that boy was certainly impatient. He scanned the room for something to cover Keith with, eyes settling on his favorite green jacket. He draped it over him, trying to cover him as much as possible.

Fingers brushing his hair gently from his forehead, Lance dared himself to press another light kiss near his temple, but stopped short.

“Sleep tight, Keith.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the the umbilical chord story actually comes from my own life. I know, gross.  
> The forehead kiss, and really this entire fic was inspired by this gif: http://amezure.tumblr.com/post/150839964556/sketching-my-gay-kids-%E0%B8%87-%D9%84-%E0%B8%87
> 
> Also, I probably won't finish this before I leave for boot camp, so by my next update, both my WIP fics will be on Hiatus.


	5. Tonight, I Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Christmas time!!!
> 
>  
> 
> Tonight, I Love You- The Latency  
> Teenage Dream- Katy Perry  
> Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now- Starship

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is my last update for this fic, because I'm leaving next Wednesday for boot camp and will be gone until about January. So please spread this fic if you can, I'd love to see it grow while I'm away :)
> 
> Trigger warning: There is a deep discussion about depression and suicide after the words: “Then tell me, Keith” up until "Keith, I’m glad you told me."
> 
> Enjoy!

Cinnamon. Something smelled like cinnamon.

Keith rolled over, holding the jacket close. It smelled vaguely of ocean scented body wash and natural musk. It was a pleasant smell, but it wasn’t the source of the one strongly wafting through the room. Keith cracked open his eyes, slowly adjusting to the sunlight streaming through the window. His head hurt. There was this dull throbbing in his forehead, and his body ached.

_I have a hangover. Great._

Keith stared up at the baby blue ceiling, remembering where, exactly, he was. Sitting up slowly, he ran a quick hand through his hair, hoping his bed head wasn’t outrageous. The jacket fell naturally around his shoulders, keeping his arms warm.  He stretched briefly, bending his back and yawning. He didn’t remember much. There was the vague memory that kept replaying on a loop. Keith crying, and Lance tenderly kissing his forehead. God, why did he have to be hysterical? He hadn’t blown up that bad since…

No, he didn’t want to think about that.

He decided to leave Lance’s room, and investigate that wonderful smell. He kept the jacket on, (he felt cold, okay?), holding it tightly. Walking down the stairs, he heard sizzling and the smell of bacon infused with the smell of cinnamon. He didn’t know if he was hungry or ready to vomit. He stepped in the kitchen, which he hadn’t seen before. The walls were a reddish-brown, like adobe clay. Oak paneled cabinets lined the walls, and a light oak table sat near the doorway wall, making a little dining area.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

Lance.

The memory played over and over and over. That really happened.

But it meant nothing. Obviously.

“Pretty boy!” Ororo left her chair, little feet pattering toward Keith. She hugged his leg, looking up at him with those big doe eyes of hers.

“Hey, O,” Keith greeted her, ruffling her hair. “Is that food?”

“I was just making us some breakfast. Do you like French toast?” asked Lance, pointing at him with his spatula.

“Um, yeah.” Keith actually hadn’t had French toast in… what, years? Shiro wasn’t the best cook, even though he tried. Frozen Eggo waffles were his normal breakfast of choice, if he was late.

“I’m surprised you didn’t run off, Keith. Aren’t you hanging out with Pidge today?”

Shit. Pidge.

“Maybe I should go…”

“I’m _teasing_ , Keith. It’s only ten. You have plenty of time to eat.” He set down a plate of steaming food across from Ororo’s coloring book.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose,” said Keith, pulling out the chair. Ororo was already sitting back in her seat, eager to join him.

“Eat. Or you’ll feel like doo doo. Right, O?”

“Right!”

Keith felt himself smile. Let it be known that the McClains used their adorableness against him. He sat down, digging a fork in the fluffy scrambled eggs. Everything smelled so good. When was the last time he had a proper breakfast?

“So, where are your moms?”

Lance pulled out the chair closest to Keith and sat down with his own plate, and Ororo’s. Their knees touched briefly, since Lance was all leg and the table was so small.

“They’re out. Something about a houseplant? I’m not sure. I told them you were here.”

“I’m sorry.”

Keith watched Lance’s brows knit together. “Why are you sorry? I brought you here. Trust me, they’d rather you be safe. They _do_ care about you.”

That made Keith’s heart sink. His moms were such good people, but there was this nagging thought eating at him: _You don’t deserve their care._

He shoved it down, just like every other negative thought that sprung to the surface when he was supposed to be happy. They were becoming more and more frequent, and he didn’t like snuggling with Barry or watching his favorite show and suddenly feeling worthless and tired and angry. So much anger lately.

“That’s nice,” he muttered, forcing himself to smile. That seemed like the right thing to say, since Lance sat back in his chair and didn’t press the subject. “Tell them I said thank you.”

“I will,” said Lance, taking a bite of French toast.

“Lance?” Ororo spoke from across the table.

“Yes O?”

“Can I have some milk?”

Lance stood up from his seat. “You sure can sweetie.” He put a hand on Keith’s shoulder. “Do you want some?”

Keith thought back to the last time he had pure dairy without his pills. “No thanks.”

“You want water? You have to hydrate or your hang- headache, will be terrible.”

“Water’s fine.”

Lance smiled. He walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a three cups, all different colors. He went to the fridge to get the milk, and Keith continued eating, finishing his of his egg and starting on the French toast. Everything was delicious, and he was pretty impressed that Lance made this all by himself. Keith was the kind of person that would burn toast, try again, and burn _that_ toast. There was a pretty obvious reason that there was a stack of takeout menus on the dining table in their apartment like a sad center piece.

Lance came back to the table, setting a pink cup in front of Ororo, which she took gleefully. He gave Keith a blue cup with little stars, and sat down.

“Lance, you gave him your favorite cup,” she observed as Keith was mid sip.

“Oh, did I? I didn’t notice,” he murmured, ears burning.

Keith took no notice of Lance’s embarrassment, thinking that it was just absentmindedness, and continued drinking. It was helping, as Lance said it would. Keith never thought he’d appreciate water so strongly but there he was, gulping it down.

“Isn’t that your jacket, too?” She pointed at the jacket slung over Keith’s shoulders. Keith choked on his water, coughing and pounding on his chest.

“Okay, O, why don’t you take your coloring and your milk to the living room,” Lance said, suddenly ushering her out of the kitchen. Keith quickly shrugged off the jacket, laying it on the table. What _happened_ last night?

Lance came back, muttering unintelligibly to himself. “Sorry, she’s a little nosy.”

“How did I end up with your jacket?” asked Keith, staring at the olive green fabric in mute horror. Did he just snuggle Lance’s clothes in his sleep?

“You fell asleep so fast I didn’t even get the chance to ask you if you wanted a blanket, so I improvised. I hung your jacket up by the door.” His eyes settled on the jacket lying on the table and frowned. “You can keep it on if you’re cold.”

“A-actually, I should give it back, since I’m leaving soon.” Keith was avoiding any and all eye contact out of fear that he’d _feel_ things. “Thanks though, I really appreciate it. Um,” he hesitated, unsure how to proceed with the question without sounding weird. “Can I ask what exactly happened when I got here? I have this vague memory of crying, and-”

“You kind of… blew up at me? But it wasn’t, like, bad? I mean, you kind of told me about your dad, and mom, and Shiro… It felt like you’ve been holding that in for a while,” he interrupted, putting a hand on his arm, gently rubbing his thumb in small comforting circles, and it took all of Keith’s willpower not to flinch away. “Do you want to talk about it now that you’re not… you know…?”

“Drunk off my ass? Not really,” he said, shying away from his gaze. “What did I say about my mom?”

“That… she did drugs, and stuff. She got sick.”

Good, so he hadn’t slipped up.

“I’m sorry Keith.”

Of course he was. Imagine if knew the truth.

“It’s okay, Lance. You have nothing to be sorry about.”

He really didn’t.

“I should get going. Pidge is waiting.” Smile. Pretend.

Keith stood, pushing back his chair. Lance got up after him, searching his expression, his mouth pursed in a tight line.

“Thanks again.”

Lance watched him leave the kitchen, not moving. He didn’t know if he should hug him, or just say something comforting, but he was stumped. By the time he moved to do something, Keith was gone.

 

Pining was a weird thing. Keith never thought he’d be the one to desire after someone, to fantasize about being happy and really silly romantic things, especially with Lance. Sometimes he wanted to just yell at himself, call himself an idiot for daydreaming about his lips, and the way his nose crinkled when he laughed, and that genuinely caring personality that should have infuriated him and it did, because it made Keith feel selfish. Yet Keith still spent his nights wondering what it would be like to hold his hand, or even hug him. Scandalous thoughts for sure, so he kept them to himself. He tried his best to seem disillusioned from it all around his new friends, but it was getting harder and harder. Soon someone was going to catch on to his ruse, and it would all topple around him.

 

Lance didn’t mean to stare. Sometimes, when he looked at something, he tended to hyper focus on it, making it seem like he was staring, or even zoning out. Mostly, he was just thinking. Unfortunately, he happened to be looking at Keith’s face.

_I wonder if he knows he has a freckle near his eye. There’s a little scar under his chin, I wonder if that’s from his cat. He should get a trim, his hair is starting to grow back. Did I remember to do the reading? Shakespeare is like another language, why did we have start that right before the end of the semester? His eyes are a little bluer today, it’s pretty. I think I have a nail polish in that color, I wonder if he’d wear it. I should really change mine, the white is chipping-_

“Lance.”

_The numbers stayed on longer than I thought. The brushes Stasia gave me for detailing really worked. I wonder what she’ll give me for Christmas this year. I should invite Keith over for Christmas. I think he’d like being around a family. Is that kinda morbid? Probably. I won’t say that to him though, I don’t want him to get offended._

“Oi, Lance.”

_This steak smells like my feet after track practice. I bet the gravy is sweat juice. Ewwww, feet steak marinated in sweat oils, with a potato reduction, that’s our lunch. I should stop watching Chopped. His lips are really pink. I wonder if he ever kissed anyone. I could kiss him. He probably likes girls though, so I shouldn’t do that. But I bet he’s a nice kisser. Really soft and sweet and-_

“LANCE!”

That jarred him out of current train of thought. He was really thinking about kissing Keith, and that was a big no-no. He had to respect his sexuality and not fantasize about him. It felt like he was violating him, even if Keith had no idea.

And Keith really had _no_ idea.

“You’re staring at Keith man.”

Shit.

Lance blinked rapidly. He really had been staring, but that wasn’t intentional. Sure, he liked him, but he was usually so much more subtle about it.

Keith looked at him, curiosity flashing in his eyes. Lance glared at Jamie, who spoke up.

“Sorry man, I got distracted… by your hair!”

“What’s wrong with my hair?” asked Keith, worriedly.

“There’s this one strand. It looks out of place and I was figuring out how to tell you,” Lance lied.

Keith pulled out his phone and checked his reflection in his screen, running his hand through his hair.

“What, are you ADD now, Lance?” Trent laughed.

Now, Lance hated the way people treated ADHD as a joke, and he tried his hardest not to get defensive about it around people that weren’t aware of him having it. Dyslexia was different, because it was taken a little more seriously by schools, even if there were assholes that still made fun of people that “can’t read”. But ADHD was seen as a choice, made up by lazy kids with behavioral problems. Despite all the research being done, proving it was neurological and a lot more common, it wasn’t taken seriously. He didn’t like being the butt of the jokes that were older than him. He had chosen, however, to stop treating it so he could at least feel normal. And look where it got him: keeping secrets and lying about someone that he cared about for the sake of a reputation.

“No, it just looked weird.” His voice was small, embarrassed.

“Oh, man, it totally looked weird! Thanks Lance, I didn’t notice,” said Keith, trying to sway the conversation. Now Keith was covering for him. Great.

“You’re welcome.” Keith was so sweet. It wasn’t fair.

He wish he could tell everyone the truth.

 

The next month flew by. December brought snow, and a wave of holiday spirt. Christmas break was fast approaching, which meant they were nearing the end of the semester. In January, the new semester would begin, and so would track practice, which meant the tutoring sessions would have to end. It was almost bittersweet, since Keith and Lance liked spending time together, a lot more than the other realized.

They were at the library for the last session of the year, before a big review test that would be a chunk of their final. They had a packet of worksheet problems that they worked on together, which kept them busy and… distracted.

“Hey buddy, I think you’ve been tutoring me a little too hard. You wrote my last name on your worksheet,” Lance put his finger to the line where Keith had written his name, pointing to a clearly written _Keith McClain_.

Maybe not completely distracted.

Keith furiously erased the offending name from his paper, blowing way the eraser bits, and wrote his last name, ignoring his burning face.

“It’s okay, at least I know you’re dedicated.”

That was a terrible, horrible joke.

“Haha, yeah.” _Haha, you have no idea._

They spent the next few minutes working in silence, Keith stopping only to correct Lance on his formula. Lance occasional asked Keith for a confirmation on the symbol in the problems, since there were three that he tended to mix up, and sometimes Keith would catch him staring of into space, but he brought him right back on track, poking his arm. About halfway through the hour, Keith finished, and sat back, watching Lance work. There wasn’t much he could really tutor him on now, it was mostly up to Lance to just remember and not let himself get distracted. His test grades had been in the B’s and B+’s, since the tests were a lot harder than the daily problems, and there was the additional pressure of time. Next quarter would be ACT prep, and Keith felt a little worried for Lance. For the OGTs, the very least you had to do was pass with a 400, and that was like cake compared to what the ACT would be. Sure, Lance would definitely have athletic scholarships, but something told Keith that Lance would only take them for convenience. He still had to be accepted by a college, and none that Keith knew took an ACT score lower than 20. Maybe he was overthinking, but he hoped Lance knew what he was doing.

Lance finished his packet a few minutes before the session was over, and Keith looked over his answers, pointing out only a couple mistakes, but otherwise he had perfect answers.

“Well, I think you’re ready for the test tomorrow. I can’t believe the year is over,” said Keith, slightly dejected. There would be a least two weeks of vacation, before they came back, and a couple weeks before the new semester, and Keith was actually going to miss these little tutoring sessions, and not for the obvious reason. They really bonded, sharing jokes and telling each other random things, catching up on shows they shared interest in. Keith learned a lot about Lance in these last few months, things that he never expected, and in a way it was comforting. Even if Keith couldn’t have him as a boyfriend, he enjoyed his friendship, even if it made things a little harder.

“Thanks man...” Lance bit his lip, thinking about what he was going to say next. “Hey, um, are you doing anything over break?”

“Nothing really astounding. I mean, Pidge and I hang out the day after Christmas, and there’s New Year’s Eve. I don’t do much. Why, is there another party?”

“There might be, but that’s not why I’m asking.” Lance’s foot tapped rapidly under the round table, a nervous habit coupled with his ADHD that usual drove him nuts. “I was wondering if, maybe, you wanted to, I don’t know…” Spit it out Lance. “I was thinking, since it’s just you and Shiro, maybe you’d want to come over and spend it with me and my family, since, well you don’t- I mean, god that was stupid, uh. I’m not making a very good case, am I?” His nervous laugh was a little louder than it should have been, and he stared at Keith’s hands, avoiding his face so he wouldn’t be more of a blubbering mess.

“Are you asking me to come over for Christmas?” Keith asked incredulously.

“Well, Christmas Eve. My family will be visiting.”

Keith was curious about Lance’s family. He knew it was big, and that they really only got the chance to visit for the holidays, since they were so scattered. Lance’s sister was still in school, and his brother was already married with two kids. That wasn’t even mentioning his cousins, and his aunts and uncles, and grandparents on either side. It was like a little family reunion for the winter.

“I mean, you don’t have to come. It was just a stupid thought.”

Should Keith go? He really didn’t have a family of his own, and he and Shiro really didn’t do anything but watch the Jimmy Carey version of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” (the best version, in Keith’s opinion). It would be fun, even if Keith would be pining the entire time. His crush on Lance was still as strong as ever.

“I have to ask Shiro, but I think I can come,” he told him, grinning.

“Really?!? Oh man, you’re gonna have so much fun!” Lance was relieved, and also ecstatic. “I have two nieces and they’re a little younger than Ororo, you’ll love them. My cousins are around our age, and my siblings are probably gonna tell you some lies about me but _don’t_ listen to them and-“

“Save some excitement for when I’m there!” Keith exclaimed jokingly.

“Oh, right, okay. Sorry.”

This should be fun, thought Keith, chuckling at Lance’s sheepish expression.

 

“Hey loser, where’s my present?” greeted Pidge. It was the last day before Christmas break, and she was meeting Keith to uphold their yearly tradition of the gift exchange, one they had been doing since eighth grade.

“Present? What present?” he asked, voice quivering with panic. He held a green wrapped package behind his back, feigning ignorance.

“Come on, you do this every year.” She pushed against him, reaching behind him. He stepped away, holding the present away from her.

“Oh, you mean this present?” He held above her head, purposely out of reach.

“Curse my short arms,” she yelled, straining to reach. “Why do you take advantage of my disability, Keith?”

“Shortness isn’t a disability, Pidge.”

“It’s called dwarfism. And it’s a serious condition.”

He laughed, handing her the present. “Here you go, shorty.”

“Thank you! Here’s yours,” she said, handing him a red wrapped box.

They opened their gifts, revealing what the other had gotten them. Keith bought her these glowing cat ear headphones in green, the ones she thought were sold out when they went to the mall over the summer and never saw in stock again, (Shiro wasn’t the only sneaky one). Pidge had gotten him a red turtleneck sweater, saying that he didn’t have a Christmas sweater and it was either that or the Minions one he saw. Keith shuddered, he hated Minions.

“So, did you ask Shiro yet?” She held her gift to her chest, never letting it go.

“No, and if I can go I have to get him something. And possibly bring something edible.” Keith would have asked him yesterday, but he went straight to bed, feeling more tired than usual.

“Well, I’m sure you can go, that’s a given. Any idea of what to get him?”

“Not a clue.” Keith knew a few things about Lance, but he still didn’t know what to get him. He would have to see when he got to the mall what would catch his eye.

“Well, good luck. You’ll definitely need it,” said Pidge, dry and honest as usual.

“Wow, thanks.”

“No problem lover boy.”

Oh, low blow.

“You shut your whore mouth.”

Pidge cackled. They were walking to their last class, which was shared honors English, when they heard a distinct yelling coming from the end of the hallway.

“KEITH!!!”

The quick patter of footsteps echoed through the hall as Lance sprinted through the crowd, practically knocking Keith over when he got to him. He gripped his shoulders, bringing his face a mere inch way from Keith’s. “Keith, I got an A!” He spoke in a hushed whisper, a dramatic change from the shouting just seconds ago.

“Mr. Shada put up the grades already?” Keith asked, staring down at Lance’s lips.

“Yeah! I got a ninety five percent! Can you believe it?” Lance was so bright and proud of himself, looking Keith right in the eyes.

“Thank you _so much_ ,” he whispered, nearly touching their foreheads together. He released him, running off to god knows where, leaving Keith breathless.

“Well, that was gay.”

Keith pinched her.

“Ow, fuck you man.”

Keith went home right after school and sat on the couch, playing with Barry until Shiro got home a few hours later.

“Hey bud.” Shiro took off his coat and hung it on the back of the chair, knocking off the snow.

“Hey, Shiro.” Keith’s body was laid out on the couch as he lifted Barry up and down. He was beginning to look unamused, so Keith sat him down on the floor and sat up himself, so he was in Shiro’s line of vision. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Shiro pulled off his other boot and narrowed his eyes at Keith. “Okay.”

“Um…” Beating around the bush was pointless, so Keith just came out with it. “Lance invited me over for Christmas Eve with his family.”

Shiro suddenly brightened, clapping his hands together. “Oh, that’s perfect!”

“Why is that perfect, Shiro?” It was Keith’s turn to be suspicious.

“Well, I- uh…”

“Shiro…”

“Allura invited me over to meet her parents on Christmas Eve?” Shiro shrunk away from Keith’s inevitable anger, cowering behind his boot.

“Oh, when were you going to tell me?” It was a genuine question, with no malice behind it. Keith figured this would happen eventually, so it was less angry and more surprised.

“She asked me maybe a few days ago? I was going to tell you before I gave a definite yes…”

“Well, can you take me to the mall so I can get Lance something? I need to let him know I’m coming and I only have a few days to find something.” Keith crossed his arms, smirking.

Shiro tossed some snow from his boot at him. “You asshole. You’re really not mad?”

“Nah.”

“Well, now you can see your boyfriend.”

Keith dug his nails into his arms. “Uh, no, he’s not my boyfriend. We’re not even close to dating.” _And we never will be._

“You trying to convince me, or yourself?” Shiro taunted, leering at Keith.

“I will literally throw Barry at you, Takashi.”

“You would hurt me, a poor defenseless cripple?”

Keith reached down for Barry, deadpanned, and Shiro flinched.

“Okay, okay! Don’t toss the cat!” They laughed together, and for the first time in a while, Keith felt at ease.

 

“This is hopeless,” complained Keith as they walked through the mall again. Keith had been to at least three stores, but nothing he found screamed ‘Lance’. Everything seemed so plain, so boring. “What did you get Allura?”

Shiro blushed, turning a deep red. “You don’t need to know.”

“Oh, gross!” Keith scanned around, looking for any store that could have something interesting. They were coming up on a book store, which Keith was reading to dismiss, until he saw the name of an author he immediately recognized. Keith silently went inside, going to the YA fiction section. Getting a dyslexic a book would be, in all ways, painfully ironic, but Keith was looking for a particular story. One he read in fifth grade and didn’t exactly relate to, but knew Lance would. Keith crouched, searching for the title… There it was!

He pulled out a book with a familiar green cover and bronze lettering. Still the same as he remembered.

Shiro eyed him, after quietly following him in. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I think it’s perfect.” Keith hoped Lance would understand and not see it as a stupid joke, and he had faith.

They walked up to the counter, and Keith placed the paperback on the counter. A girl with purple and a nose ring was just about to ring him up when he noticed the black light display behind her. A bunch of glow and the dark things were stuck on the wall, with the black light shining down so people could see them glowing. What caught his eye were the swirl of stars glowing above the other shapes.

_You know what I do when I’m overwhelmed? I sit and watch the stars._

“Um, miss?” He pointed to the display. “Do you have any more of those stars?”

She smiled politely, pointing behind him. “They’re on the little spinny rack behind you.”

 Keith grabbed a cellophane bag full of stars and put them on top of the book. “These too, please.”

She rang him up, and he paid with the money Shiro had given him. He was pretty proud of his choice, and was confident that Lance would like them.

Bag in hand, Keith walked to the bakery near the end of the first floor. He figured bringing something would be polite, and dessert was usually the easiest. It was a little late in the year for pumpkin pies, so Keith moved down the line to some of the different flavors. Keith checked with Lance that no one was allergic to nuts, so the pecan pie he was staring at seemed like a good choice. He had the baker box that up, and he paid for that as well. Keith felt like he was forgetting something, and has he passed a little dollar store, he remembered Ororo. He had to get her something. There was a little nail polish kit for children, with three little glitter nail polishes and the thing that separated the fingers and toes sitting on the first shelf he saw. She should be old enough for one of those, and if she liked painting nails as much as Lance said, she would love them. Keith used his last little bit of cash to pay for it, and they were finally done.

“So, you got everything?” asked Shiro sarcastically, gesturing to the three bags in his hand.

“Yes, Shiro, no thanks to you,” Keith bit back.

“Hey, you seemed to have it all on your own.” He slung his prosthetic arm around Keith’s shoulder, squeezing it. “They’re gonna love everything.”

Keith looked down at the bags in his hand.

“I hope so.”

 

He decided to wear the red sweater Pidge gave him. Something told him they were a Christmas sweater family, and he didn’t want to look out of place. He fixed his hair one last time (you could never be too careful), and threw on his coat. Lance and Ororo’s presents were wrapped in corresponding colored paper, (blue for Lance, purple for Ororo), and were resting on top of the boxed pie in the bag on the dining table. Shiro had leave before Keith was even out of the shower, since her parents lived out towards Toledo, and that was about forty-five minutes from their town, and he was riding in her car, so that left Keith alone. Well, almost.

Barry walked across the table, poking his little ginger head into the white bag. He was the nosiest cat.

“No Barry, that’s not for you,” said Keith, grabbing it away from him. “I left you a full bowl of Fancy Feast. Go eat.”

He just stared at him.

“I’ll see you later furball.” Petting him on the head on last time and grabbing his keys, Keith was ready to go.

 

He drove his motorcycle slowly through the snowy streets. They were surprisingly well plowed, but Keith didn’t want to take any chances. He made it to Lance’s without incident, stopping a few houses down because there were already a ton of cars around his house.

Keith trudged through the unshoveled sidewalk up to Lance’s house. He knocked on the door, surprisingly calm despite the massive anxiety he had earlier. He had to make a good impression, after all.

“Hello?” Lance opened the door and looked down at the stoop. When he saw that it was Keith and not some stranger he smiled, big and toothy. “Keith! You’re here!”

Keith figured Lance was a sweater person, but he was not prepared for the sight that he saw:

Minions.

Lance’s blue sweater was patterned with little Minions in that classic Christmas sweater print, and Keith wanted to die. His crush liked Minions. Looking at him though, he pulled it off without looking cringy, like the people who wore emoji clothing. Never in a million years would Keith say someone looked good in a Minion patterned sweater, but Lance would be the _one_ person to change his mind. Cheeky fuck.

“Come in before you catch a cold!” he exclaimed, ushering him inside. Keith unbuttoned his coat and took off his shoes.

“Here, hold this.” Keith handed him the bag so he could he hang his coat.

“Oh, is this for me? Keith, you shouldn’t have.” Lance peered inside.

“One thing might be for you. If you’re nice. I might just give it to Ororo,” Keith taunted, grabbing the bag back.

“Man, no fair. She has so many presents!” Lance groaned childishly, and Keith snickered. “You suck.”

“I’m not the one wearing a Minion sweater!” he blurted.

“Hey! Ororo picked this for me. Besides, my moms wouldn’t let me wear my Bee Movie shirt.”

“Bee Movie shirt?”

“You know, the one with the entire script printed in small font?”

Keith was in love with a fucking meme.

“You baffle me sometimes,” said Keith.

“Hey, I’m okay with that,” Lance winked.

Jesus Christ he was going to die before the night began.

“Do you need to bring anything to the kitchen? That’s where all the food is.” They stepped into the living room, suddenly in view of a few people sitting on the couch.

Keith watched who he assumed were part of Lance’s family stare at him. “Um, yeah.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lance nudged him forward. “Guys, this is my friend, Keith.”

He waved nervously. They seemed like they were judging him, and he didn’t know what to do.

“The one I was telling you about?”

A collective “Oh!” rang through them. A boy, maybe a few years younger than them got up from the couch and stepped forward.

“I’m Leo! Lance’s cousin on Aunt Luci’s side. Nice to meet ya!” He grabbed his hand, shaking it up and down enthusiastically.

“That’s Tessa, she’s my sister, and that’s Nick, Aunt Angel’s nephew.” He pointed to the girl with dark curly hair and a boy with sandy blonde hair behind him, and they waved, now wearing friendly smiles.

“Hi.”

“Come on Keith, I’ll take you to the kitchen. We’re just waiting on my brother and his kids.”

They walked in to the kitchen to meet a room full of adults. Some were drinking and laughing, others were pulling food out of the fridge and setting in on the counter space. Lance’s moms were trying to feed Ororo a little spoon of mashed potatoes, with her resting at Angel’s hip. She turned her head at them and shouted “Pretty boy!” at Keith, and the room went quiet as everyone turned to look at them.

“Hey everyone! This is Keith!” His hand was on the small of Keith’s back again, and this time Keith took more comfort in it.

Ororo wiggled free of her mom and ran up to Keith. He set down the bag and picked her up. “Hey little lady.”

She hugged his neck, and everyone seemed to relax, as if the judgement of a toddler were enough of an impression that he was a good person.

“Keith, I’m so glad you could make it. Lancelot was bugging us for a week about you,” Angel smiled her sly, all knowing smile.

“Oh really?” Keith glanced at Lance, who could’ve been blowing steam out of his ears with how red he was.

“Oh yeah. He was worried that the snow would keep you from coming. He was ready to plow the street himself,” said Luci.

“Well, I wasn’t going to let Ororo down.”

Everyone laughed at that, and Lance’s heart melted. Even if Keith would never know about Lance’s crush, he was a great friend, and Lance was proud of him.

“I got you a present, O,” said Keith, in this secretive voice.

“Oooooh! Present!” She beamed with excitement. He set her down and fished out the little purple present from the bag. She tore it open as soon he handed it to her, and she squealed as soon as she saw what it was.

“Pretty nail polish!”

“Yeah, I thought you’d want some for yourself.” He looked to Angel and Luci. “I hope that’s okay…”

“It’s perfect,” they said, smiling wider.

“Don’t let Lance take those from you,” he told Ororo, and she giggled.

“Hey! I have plenty. Stasia painted these for me,” he said, showing of navy nails that matched his sweater.

“Can we paint now?” asked Ororo wide eyes.

“Sweetie, we can paint your nails later. Put them under the tree for now okay?” Luci asked her.

“Okay, mama!” She ran out of the kitchen and Luci sighed.

“Oh no. Did I do something wrong?” Keith thought it was going well.

“You might have created a monster, but it’s okay. She’s going to love you forever, I hope you know that. I think you beat Lance out as her favorite,” she joked.

Jutting out his bottom lip, Lance pouted, looking down at the bag. “Where’s mine?”

“You get none. Ororo’s my favorite now.”

Lance glared at him for a moment, before raising his eyebrow and curling his lips in an amused smile. “So I _was_ your favorite?”

Keith froze. What was he supposed to say to that?

Luckily, a girl with short curly hair came over, beer in hand, saving him. “Hi, I’m Stasia. Lance’s older sister.” She was naturally pretty, with sun-kissed skin similar to Lance and dark brown eyes like her mama. He could definitely see the resemblance.

“Keith, nice to meet you.”

“So what has this little booger been saying about me?” ‘Little’ was definitely supposed to be an ironic insult, since she was at least four inches shorter than him.

“He said you don’t know how to take care of your face,” he immediately snitched.

Lance’s eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out.

“Oh, he’s been saying that for years. I finally bought a face mask, Lancelot, I’m sure you’d be elated to know.”

“Oh! Bless.” He closed his eyes and pretended to pray, and Stasia shoved his shoulder. Keith snickered at this display of sibling affection, reminding him of Shiro and him when they were younger.

“Well, don’t just stand there! Meet the rest of the family!” She dragged him away Lance’s side, stopping in front of a pale blonde woman that had to be related to Angel. “This is Aunt Gloria.”

“Hello, Keith,” she greeted him with that famous Angel wink, and he knew they were definitely sisters. “Did you meet my son Nick?”

“Yeah, I did. He didn’t say much.”

“He’s shy. Get him to talk about comic books, it gets him every time.”

Stasia pulled him over to a tall man with dark hair and goatee. “This is Uncle Ricardo. Aunt Claire isn’t here because she’s still off shore.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, deep voice rumbling from his chest. Keith shook his hand, and he had an impressive grip. His hand ached a little when he let go.

They moved on to who could only be the grandparents, a man with snow white hair and piercing blue eyes, and a short woman with smile winkles at the corners over her eyes and graying curly brown hair, who sat the table with wine in their glasses.

“Grandma Ella from mama’s side, and Grandpa Sam from mom’s side.”

“Nice to meet you, sport,” said Sam.

Ella looked deep into Keith’s eyes, searching his soul. She seemed like the wise old woman that would snap Keith in a second, and he did not want to mess with her.

She cracked smile, leaning back into the chair. “Lance, _como guapo cuándo es la boda_?”

Lance tensed. “ _No, abuela, solo es un amigo_.”

“Hmm. _Que lastima_ ,” she said, sipping her wine.

Keith looked between them blankly. What did she say?

“It’s nice to meet you, Keith.” Her English was thick with an accent, but Keith had no problem understanding her.

“It’s nice meeting all of you.” Keith felt oddly grateful to be surrounded by a family, even if it wasn’t his own. A negative voice told him they were only being nice out of pity, but he shoved it aside. He wasn’t going to break down, not tonight.

“We’re just waiting for Cisco and his wife and kids. He’s bringing out favorite Christmas tradition,” said Stasia, nudging him playfully.

 _That’s ominous_ , Keith thought to himself. Hopefully it wasn’t mistletoe. The thought of Lance kissing him as joke would reduce him to a puddle of emotions.

“Oh, I brought a dessert,” Keith remembered, pulling the pie out of the bag.

“Oh, Keith you didn’t have to bring anything,” scolded Luci, taking the pie. “Thank you.”

“It’s not a problem.” Keith rubbed the back of his neck.

“Boy brings a pie and Lance won’t make him his boyfriend,” Ella muttered in Spanish. A strangled noise came from Lance, causing his family to snap their heads toward him.

“You sound thirsty Lance, need some water?” asked Stasia, an evil smile stretching her lips. Like her brother, she knew enough Spanish to communicate with her Cuban relatives, and understood everything her grandma was saying. It was fun to watch Lance be at a loss for words, for once.

“No, I’m not _thirsty_ ,” he stressed, glaring at his sister. “Well, I think you met everyone. Let’s go to the living room.” He spun Keith around, pushing him out of the kitchen.

“God they’re embarrassing,” muttered Lance.

“I like them. I thought it would be awkward, but…” Keith bit his lip. “They make me feel at home.”

Lance softened. “I’m really glad,” he said honestly.

“Hey Lance, when can we eat?” asked Tessa.

“When Cisco gets here. He should be here any minute,” he assured her.

Lance pulled out a couple chairs that were resting against the love seat and opened them so they had a place to sit. Ororo plopped herself into Keith’s lap, hugging onto his arm. They watched a rerun of another Christmas favorite of Keith’s: “Billy and Mandy Save Christmas”. It was still funny after all this time. There was just something about the Gilbert Gottfried Santa that made Keith clutch his sides and wheeze out his laughter. After the introduction of the Michael McDowell vampire, there was a knock at door.

“I’ll get it!”

Lance bounded over to the little hallway and opened the door.

“Hey little brother,” said a male voice.

A couple kids ran past Lance’s legs, nearly knocking him over, and Lance was engulfed in a pair of puffy coat covered arms.

“Cisco! Jackie! Come in, it’s about time!” Lance closed the door behind them. “Guys! They’re here!”

“There’s the rest of the party!” Luci came into the living room, holding out her arms. Cisco was even taller than Lance, and Keith wondered if the tall gene was exclusively for the males of this family.

“Mama!” He nearly picked her up off the ground, hugging her tight. “I’m so sorry, there was an accident on the highway and it set us back.”

“It’s okay, at least you made here safely. Jackie!” She hugged the woman right behind him. She had to be Cisco’s wife, and she was also beautiful. Long black hair fell in ringlets against her shoulders, and her olive skin was flushed from the cold. She kissed both Luci’s cheeks.

“Hello Luci. Where’s Angel?”

“Coming!” The rest of the family followed her from the kitchen to greet the little family. The two kids were at Angel’s side, holding to her pants. “Look at you too! Zoey, Tammy, you’re so big!”

The kid with the shorter hair and jeans frowned. “Grandma Angel, I’m Tommy now.”

She looked at her son for confirmation, and he nodded. “Well Tommy, you’re getting to be a big boy. I don’t even think I can lift you.” She pretended to strain when she tried to lift him, and he giggled.

“Yes you can!” he insisted, and she finally hoisted him up.

“My grandchildren are growing before my eyes, you too. What are you feeding them?” she asked, teasing her son and his wife.

“Farm fed manure, just like you did us,” he joked, hugging her.

Keith sat there, silent and awkward. He felt like he was invading a private moment, and for a second he felt like he didn’t belong there.

 _This isn’t your family_ , a sinister voice reminded him.

Lance looked over at him, realizing he needed to be introduced. He went to stand by him, drawing his family’s attention away from their little huddle.

“Hey Cisco! Jackie! This is Keith.” Lance squeezed his shoulder, and he felt a little more grounded. “O, let him up.”

Ororo slid off of his lap so Keith could stand and greet him properly. “Nice to meet you.”

“So you’re the famous Keith I’ve been hearing about,” said Cisco, arching a brow at him. “How do you put up with this one?” he asked, covering the side of his mouth and pointing his thumb at Lance.

The fact that Lance talked to his family members enough to refer to him as famous made his heart race, but he didn’t let his expression betray him. “I’d call it charity, to be honest.”

“Hey!” Lance fumed. “I’m betrayed by my own guest.” He crossed his arms and pouted in a childlike way.

“It’s good, he picked up on what kind of family we are,” he said, pulling Lance into a head lock. Keith watched Lance struggle, giggling. “I promise we love each other.”

“I can see that.” Lance’s family was more than loving and it was beautiful.

Finally breaking free, Lance asked: “So, did you bring it?”

“Um, of course I did! It wouldn’t be a proper Ramirez-McClain Christmas Eve without karaoke!”

Karaoke? Oh no…

Keith didn’t sing. He didn’t dance. He didn’t like performing or doing any of those things. So being signed up for karaoke in front of his crush’s family was definitely a bit of a surprise. He’d rather take mistletoe.

Cisco grabbed the little hand held machine from his wife, holding it out for them to see. “I got a lot more music this year thanks to a buddy of mine. You ready to croak it out?” he asked Lance.

“Most definitely.”

So it was more about fun that actually being good. But still, mistletoe started to look a lot more appealing…

“I’ll hook it up, everyone should eat. We’re all starving,” Lance volunteered, already carrying the thing over to TV.

“Do you need help?” asked Keith to be polite.

Lance shooed him away. “No, go eat. This will take two minutes.”

So Keith followed his family into the kitchen, joining the line. He grabbed two plates, one for himself and one for Lance (stubborn), sliding them along as he put a little bit of everything on each one. He knew Lance was no stranger to food, so he heaped everything on, while he kept his portions minimal. Grabbing forks and napkins from the end of the line, he carried the two plates into the living room. Lance was plugging the wires into the TV, changing the channel to the right one for the machine.

“Lance.” Keith poked him in the back to get his attention.

“Did you get something to eat?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m serious Keith I’m not turning around if you don’t have a plate in your hand.”

“Well I guess you’ll have to, I have two and I can’t eat without setting one down.”

Lance straightened, turning around to see Keith indeed holding two plates of food. “Keith, I could have gotten my own.”

Keith panicked. Of course Lance could have gotten his own plate. He was stupid, only family and significant others did something like that. Why was he trying so hard to be something he wasn’t, and wouldn’t ever be? His breathing quickened, and he stuttered out his response. “I- I’m sorry, no you’re right, I shouldn’t have, I’m an idiot I-”

“Hey, hey. It’s not a big deal, silly.” He grabbed the plate from Keith’s hand, and he felt his fingers brush against his knuckles. “You don’t have to impress anyone here,” he whispered.

Right. That’s what he was doing.

“Okay.” Keith noticed that Lance grabbed the plate with the smaller portions. “You took the wrong one.”

“No I didn’t.” There was that smile that brought butterflies again.

“ _Lance_ …”

“You are _eating_. Look at you! You’re like a stick!” Lance poked him in ribs to prove his point.

He recoiled away. “Hey! We’re like the same size, dork.”

“Yeah but I’m all muscle.” He flexed and kissed his bicep.

_I want to be that bicep._

“See these guns?”

“No, I can’t see them under your DEVIL SWEATER.”

They bickered for a minute, not noticing the little crowd watching them.

Ella leaned over to Stasia and whispered: “So when do you think they’ll tell us they’re married.”

“Grandma, you’re so bad,” she snickered. “He’s just a friend.”

“Only Lance would fall for a straight boy.”

Stasia wasn’t so sure about that. “I think they’re both oblivious.”

Ella side eyed her and shrugged. “If you say so. He’s a cute one, though. I don’t blame him. If I was fifty years younger…”

“ _Please_ don’t finish that sentence.”

She laughed heartily at that, turning her attention back to her grandson.

Keith was finally eating, and Lance kept stealing glances at him as he finished setting up everything. The amount of adoration in his eyes was almost sickening, and she had to feel sorry for him. Loving someone who didn’t even notice was tough, as she thought back to her late husband. She remembered when her daughter first brought home Angel, and it was scary how similar Lance looked like her when Keith wasn’t watching. She didn’t pretend to understand, but she knew love when she saw it. Boy, was Lance in deep.

“Well, it’s done! Anyone want go first?” Lance asked around, pointing the microphone in a wide arch.

“We all know you want to sing, Lance!” shouted Cisco, breaking his attempt at being modest.

“I mean, if you guys insist…” He stared the machine, putting in a CD filled with songs. “I’m going to be doing a classic by my girl Katy Perry,” he announced into the microphone.

 _Please don’t let be “I Kissed a Girl”_ , Keith prayed silently.

The music played a familiar tune, and Lance sang.

“ _You think I’m pretty, without any makeup on…”_

Keith didn’t know what else he expected.

“ _You think I'm funny when I tell the punch line wrong. I know you get me, so I let my walls come down, down…”_

Lance tried his best not to look in Keith’s direction as he was singing, because why make his feelings obvious? But Lance was theatric, so he moved around the room, and if he stopped in front of Keith, it would seem innocent. Because he was having fun. At least, that’s what he was telling himself as he crooned away.

“ _Let's go all the way tonight. No regrets, just love. We can dance until we die. You and I, will be young forever!”_

Lance danced, shimmying and swaying, moving around the room with each beat, landing in front of Keith. He pointed at him, and Keith raised his eyebrows.

_“You make me feel like I'm living a teenage dream, the way you turn me on. I can't sleep. Let's run away and don't ever look back, don't ever look back.”_

Grabbing his hand, Lance forced him into a dance, swinging his arms. Lance had no idea how hard Keith’s heart was thumping, or his own clammy hands as he twirled him around. It was all oblivious fun, and the rest of the room seemed to melt away. It was just them and the music.

As he let Keith go and moved back to the TV to finish the song, his heat pounded in his ears. He actually sang to Keith. It was bad enough that he was hopelessly crushing on a guy that would probably never be into him, but he just happened to sing a love song at him. Like that didn’t make it totally obvious to everyone. He sang the rest of the song like nothing happened, like his head wasn’t spinning. At least Keith seemed unfazed.

 

Spoiler: Keith was freaking out.

How dare he sing one of the defining gay love songs at him!

Okay, so it wasn’t gay, but it was used in so many Klaine MVs it might as well have been. And Lance had the _nerve_ , the _audacity_ , to sing and dance with him like it was nothing. Was he trying to make his heart explode? He was torturing him and he didn’t have a clue. What an asshole.

Keith couldn’t be mad, though. He did this to himself. He just hoped that Lance’s family didn’t notice.

 

Spoiler: they did, and they couldn’t be happier.

No one was going to pry. Even if it was almost painful to watch them dance around each other (now literally). But they would be lying if they didn’t try to speed things along later. For now, the rest of the family participated in karaoke, and exchanged stories.

Cisco waited for Lance to get a drink to start telling Keith embarrassing stories about him, starting out with his favorite: “So, Lance ate a tube of Mama’s hair dye when he was three, and to this day I still can hear them screeching, trying to get him to throw it back up.”

Keith’s mouth dropped open in disbelief. “How?”

“We don’t even know. His teeth punctured the tube, or something. All I know is, what he didn’t throw up, came out the other end the looking the exact same way.” He chuckled, patting him on the back.

Keith appreciated this information. It would make good black mail. Not that he would ever _use_ it.

Speak of the devil...

“Keith, oh man, have you tried the pie you brought? It amazing oh my cheese try it, try it!” Lance popped out from behind them, shoving a small piece of the pecan pie in his mouth. Keith sputtered, trying not to spit out pie at Cisco.

“Lance!” said Cisco sternly.

“It’s so good, where’d you get it from? I need to know it’s so sweet and-”

Cisco grabbed his head in his hands, silencing him. “Lance, calm down. Eat some starch.”

“But I just…”

“Now.”

Lance trudged away with dropping shoulders, and Cisco sighed. “I swear, nothing changes.”

“It’s okay,” Keith told him after swallowing the sudden pie.

“Lance isn’t that bad, it makes him outgoing, you know? But when he has sugar, lord help us.”

“I’m sure he was fun at his birthday parties.”

Cisco laughed. “Oh man, he was allowed _one_ piece of cake. He was a little devil, I tell you. One time at Halloween we had to regulate his candy and he _somehow_ -”

“Sorry, brother, I’m going to steal him for a second. I need some company,” said Stasia, creeping up to them suddenly. “Do you mind, Keith?”

“No, not at all.” He followed her to the front door, throwing on his coat as he guessed they were going outside, eyeing the cigarettes in her hand. They stepped outside, and she lit one, taking a long drag. “Those are gonna kill you, you know.”

She flicked off the excess ash, shrugging. “Midterms just killed me, and I need to let off a little steam. Besides, I wanted to talk to you.”

Oh no.

“A-about what?” asked Keith, chattering, and not from the cold.

“Oh nothing really…” She took another drag. “How long have you liked my brother?”

Fuck.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Keith looked away and starred at the wood paneling of the door.

“Keith, I was raised by lesbians, and my brother likes guys. It’s not hard to see.”

He sighed, his breath visible in the frigid air. “A few months, maybe longer?” Keith started to question whether his jealousy was real after he came to terms with his crush, and it all seemed to add up.

“Have you told him?” she asked, peering at him. They were illuminated by the porch light, but she wasn’t wearing her glasses so she had to squint.

“Are you kidding?” he yelled. She put a finger to her lips. “I don’t know if you know this, but he’s one of the most popular guys at our school.”

“But aren’t you in the same circle of friends?”

“Yeah, but…” He took a deep breath. “He’s the only reason I’m there.”

“What do you mean?”

So he explained the story, from the first day of Lance’s tutoring up until now. She seemed to be confused at first, but as he went on, leaving out a couple details for sanity’s sake, her expression softened, becoming understanding.

“So you guys got into this whole ‘You scratch my back I scratch yours’ situation and you’re afraid of losing him as a friend if you tell him how you really feel?” she summed up.

“Exactly.”

She bit her lip. “I think you shouldn’t be afraid. Lance likes guys.”

“Yeah, but just because he likes guys doesn’t automatically mean he’ll be attracted to me,” Keith pointed out.

“But you guys seem close.”

 _I guess_ , Keith thought. “I never told him I was gay, though.”

“ _What?_ ”

He flinched at her sudden change in tone. “It just never came up?”

She crossed her arms. “It would seem a little out of left field if he thinks you’re straight.”

No shit.

“I guess I should tell him that first, huh?”

“Um, yeah? Jesus.” She flicked her cigarette into the snow. “Just find the right time, okay? And for the love of god be subtle.”

_Subtle… I can do that._

“Sure. Thanks Stasia.”

“Just pretend like this conversation never happened, okay?” she winked.

“Got it.”

 

Everyone had had a turn at the karaoke machine, except Keith. They endured a rendition of ‘Hotel California’ from Ricardo, a ‘Frozen’ duet, a lesbian rendition of ‘I Got You Babe’ from Lance’s moms, among others. He was seriously praying he could go the night without singing, and he thought it worked, until…

“Hey, Keith hasn’t gone yet!”

 _Fuck you, Cisco_.

“I really don’t have to, please, someone else can take my turn,” he begged as Stasia shoved him forward.

“We picked out a fun one for you, Keith. Would you want to sing it as a duet?” asked Angel as she put in the CD.

Suffering with someone was a lot better than suffering alone, so he said yes.

“Hey Lance!”

Well, fuck, that backfired.

Lance walked out of the kitchen with a bread roll in his mouth. He dropped it into his hand. “What’s crackin’?”

“Keith was just about to sing, but he’s feeling a little shy. Would you mind doing a duet with him?” asked Luci with an evil glint her eye.

_This whole family is against me I swear to god._

“Uh, duh, I love duets.” Lance joined his side, grabbing a mic. “Do you want to be Troy or Gabriella?”

_DID THIS FUCKER REALLY REFERNCE HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL WHILE I’M LITERALLY DYING?_

“Um, Troy.” At least he’d be the lead. This was like his Camp Rock dream all over again, and he was Demi freaking Lovato.

“Cool. What song did you pick, mom?”

“Oh, just a little eighties ballad.”

On that note, she pressed play, and the sound of drums echoed out of the speaker. Keith took a breath, and let himself sing.

 _“Looking in your eyes I see a paradise, this world that I've found is too good to be true. Standing here beside you, want so much to give you this love in my heart that I'm feeling for you.”_ Keith had a raspiness to his voice, one would call it a smoker’s quality, despite Keith never smoking in his life _._ It didn’t quite fit the pop tune of the song, but it somehow worked and left everyone captivated. Especially Lance.

Nearly coming in a beat late, Lance joined in. _“Let 'em say we're crazy, I don't care about that. Put your hand in my hand baby don't ever look back. Let the world around us just fall apart. Baby we can make it if we're heart to heart.”_

 _“And we can build this dream together, standing strong forever. Nothing's gonna stop us now. And if this world runs out of lovers, we'll still have each other. Nothing's gonna stop us, nothing's gonna stop us now.”_ The harmony wasn’t quite right, but it wasn’t about hitting the exact notes. They sang well together, and Stasia even pulled out her lighter and waved it back and forth. Keith wasn’t thinking too hard about the song for his sake, but it he had to sing a song to Lance about his feelings, this was pretty up there. Keith had fun with it, swinging his hips to the beat. At one point Lance dropped to his knees for the high notes, making him laugh.

After it was over, there was a giant round of applause and Keith bowed. He never felt like this before. It was like a shot of adrenaline. Everything buzzed and he felt like he could run to the moon.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me you could sing, Sunshine?” asked Lance.

“Cuz I didn’t know I could,” said Keith honestly. _Sunshine??_

“Well, you can, and I hate you for it,” Lance replied, grinning.

There was a knock at the door, and they exchanged a confused glance.

“There shouldn’t be anyone else coming…” Lance trailed off when he opened the door to reveal a tall dark skinned woman in a burgundy coat, holding a pink present.

“Hi Lance, may I come in?”

Keith looked over the stranger, and stopped at her eyes, which were so familiar he knew immediate who she resembled.

Ororo.

The woman had to be Ororo’s mother. What was she doing here? Was she going take her away? He wouldn’t let her, he’d fight her, and he would-

“Oh, hey Kita. I wasn’t expecting you,” he said, letting her in.

“I wasn’t sure if I’d make it. Your moms invited me and I had a small window of time between flights.” She kept on her coat and stepped inside. “Where’s Ororo?”

“Aunt Kita!” Ororo ran over to her from her spot on the couch, hugging her legs.

Keith watched this all with narrowed eyes. Why would the woman that gave up Ororo come here? Didn’t she have a job to care about?

“There’s my girl. I got you a present,” she said, giving her the pink box.

“Oooooh. Mommies I got a present!”

Angel and Luci came over to see what all the fuss was about, stopping when they saw Kita kneeling down with her.

Good, they’ll send her away.

“Kita! Darling! You made it!” Kita straightened and embraced Angel like an old friend, which, wasn’t inaccurate.

“I had some time. I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see our little Ororo. She’s not so little anymore.”

Keith didn’t understand. She gave Ororo to them all those years ago. Who gave her the right to see the child she chose to give up _and_ confuse her? Did Ororo even know? She called her “Aunt”…

“Do you mind if I get something to drink? Plane rides always make my throat dry.”

“No, go right ahead.” Luci point her to the kitchen.

Keith wanted answers, so he followed her, working up the nerve to say something. He watched her pour herself a small glass of wine. He clenched his jaw, moving his lips to form that first simple word.

“Why are you here?”

She turned to him, slightly startled. “Oh, hello, I don’t believe we’ve been introduced. I’m Kita.” She held out her hand to shake and he ignored it.

“You’re Ororo’s mother.” His voice was becoming icier with each sentence, trying to freeze her up.

“I don’t like to say that. Luci and Angel are her mothers.” She leaned against the counter, one hand behind her gripping the edge.

“Then why are you here? Why are you trying to confuse her?” There was pressure building behind his emotional cork, and he was nearly ready to pop the bottle.

“Are you the one she calls ‘pretty boy’? Luci told me, she’s taken quite a fondness to you. You’re Keith, Lance’s-”

“You’re not answering the question!” he hissed. “What gives you the right to just come up here and mess with her?”

She seemed unnervingly calm in the face of Keith’s outburst. It was unsettling.

“You seem quite defensive of her. Why?” she asked with unwavering professionalism.

“Because you gave her up! You can’t just come back like the last five years of her life didn’t happen!”

“But this isn’t the first time I’ve seen her, if you’d been paying attention. She knows me as her aunt, so how could I be damaging to her mental health?”

“B-because she’s not stupid! She’ll notice, sooner or later, that the woman visiting her looks just like her, and then what? You’ll just tell her that you didn’t have time for her but could visit her between plane flights?” Keith was trying not to shout but the cork had been popped.

Kita watched him boil with anger, clearly upset. “Can I tell you something?” she asked.

Keith leaned against the table, crossing his arms and nodding for her to continue.

“When I was… younger than I am now, I was working toward becoming the top lawyer in my firm. I was a career woman, there were things I wanted and a child was not one of them. I knew Angel from college, and I knew she had just had her surgery so she couldn’t have any more children. So when I found out I was pregnant, I told her she could adopt Ororo from me. I wrote and signed the contract myself, Keith. I can’t take her away even if I wanted to.” She sipped her wine, still nonchalant.

“I don’t have a maternal bone in my body, but I love my daughter, if that makes sense. I gave birth to her, I want to see her be happy and grow. I know I can’t raise her but that doesn’t mean I can’t watch her be raised. Luci and Angel are the most beautiful and amazing women and I wouldn’t want anyone else taking care of her. I hope you can understand.”

Keith did, even he didn’t like it. It felt like she was just conveniently out of reach, but if Ororo already saw Luci and Angel as her true moms, who was he to tell her she was wrong? Maybe his own feelings were the problem.

“I’m sorry, I just…”

“Go on,” she encouraged earnestly.

Keith untensed, rolling his shoulders and breathing in deeply. “I know a thing or two about being abandoned.”

Her previously neutral face wore more of an expression of realization, eyes widening and mouth frowning. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

She shouldn’t have been sorry. His mother should have been sorry.

“No, I’m sorry for attacking you like that.”

“You got defensive because you understand. It’s normal and I don’t blame you.” She finished off her wine and set the glass down beside her. “I take no offense.”

Just then Lance came in. “Oh, hey Keith, I was looking for you. It’s getting close to eleven.” He looked between them, sensing the tension hanging in the air like smoke. “Everything alright?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine,” said Keith.

“We were just talking. It was nice meeting you, Keith.” She held out her hand one last time and this time he shook it firmly.

“Well, come on, you have to give me my present, remember?” said Lance, putting his hand on his lower back, leading him to the door.

“Those can still go to your sister, or Cisco,” he threatened, walking with him to the living room.

She watched them leave, watching as Lance pulled him closer, an odd smile lingering on her lips.

 

Keith stood by the doorway, with the bag from earlier in hand. Stasia insisted on giving him leftovers for the road, which he secretly appreciated, and they weighed the bag down.

“So, here’s your first present,” said Keith, handing him the blue wrapped package. His eyes brightened as he grabbed it and tore open the packaging.

“Are these-?”

“Stars, yeah.” Pink cheeks, check.

“How’d you know I love the stars?” asked Lance sarcastically, nudging him like they were sharing a secret.

_Every day I see stars in your eyes and I fucking hate it because they make you beautiful._

“A little birdy told me,” he played along, avoiding his eyes. “I have one more-”

“Wait, hold that thought.” Lance ran up the stairs, leaving Keith hanging on that interrupted sentence. Keith heard a couple thumps come from what had to be Lance’s room, followed by quick footsteps pounding down the stairs as he ran down with a red package in his hand. “I got you something too.” He held it out for Keith to grab. “Well, go on. Open it.”

Keith shook his head, smirking. He took the present and ripped the paper open, revealing an olive green fabric. He looked at Lance, confused. Tearing the rest away, Keith held out his gift, and the familiar white hood, and orange arm band sleeves…

“Lance, is this your jacket?” Now his face was red.

“Yeah, um, it was getting small on me, and it looked, y’know, nice on you, so I thought, why not?” Lance was the one avoiding eye contact now, looking everywhere but at Keith. “Everyone needs a comfy jacket.”

Keith was stunned to be holding his jacket in his hands, and he wanted to hold it to his chest, but restrained himself and covered himself with sarcasm. “Are you sure you didn’t want to just not spend money on me?” he teased.

“I nearly bought you Sharknado on DVD, I can always take it back and buy that instead,” he taunted. Keith put the jacket in the bag, grabbing Lance’s last present.

“No, I’m a-okay. Here,” he handed it over, turning away.

Lance eyed it curiously, tearing off the paper carefully. “Is this a book?” he asked, glancing at the back cover. “You know, I’m all about irony and memes but I never thought you-” He turned the book over, reading the title, mouth dropping open.

“I thought you’d like the story. See, it’s this dyslexic ADHD kid that finds out that he’s the son of a Greek god, and he fights monsters and makes friends with other kids like him, and-”

“Keith, I know what ‘The Lightning Thief’ is.”

Well, that was a development.

“You do?” _Well, shit._

“I’ve read all the books!” said Lance, laughing.

“Oh.” Keith was pretty disappointed now. He thought it would be special.

Lance flicked through the pages. “Oh yeah. I own most of them, but Rick cranks them out like no one’s business. When ‘House of Hades’ came out and I read it I nearly cried because…” he stopped, eyes landing on the small hand written inscription on the inside cover.

 

_For my favorite camper,_

_Thanks for helping me find my cabin._

  * _Keith_



Lance stared at the words, reading them over and over. Eyes shifted up to look at Keith, who had his head tilted like a confused dog. Keith watched him stare.

“What?”

 

Did you ever hug someone and feel the rest of the world fall away? Did you ever just melt against someone like chocolate between your fingers as someone’s arms wrapped around you like the softest blanket straight from the dryer? The warmth emulating between you two like a fresh basket of diner rolls, all worries and cares and feelings just disappearing in the skin to skin contact?

That was what Lance’s hug felt like, and Keith was smitten. The note he had written was the closest thing he’d come to writing his feelings, and it took Keith a few tries to find the right thing to say, but he settled on something simple. He thought Lance deserved a little more thanks after helping him become popular. It was lame, but Keith meant it.

“Keith, I love it,” he whispered. He broke the hug (reluctantly), and smiled at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Lance held eye contact a little longer than he meant to, heart ready to burst. “It was nice having you. I hope you had a good time.”

Lips quirked in a tight smile, Keith picked up his bag, backing towards the door. “It was wonderful. Thank you for inviting me.”

He leaned against the door frame of the little hallway. “No problem. Drive safe.”

“I’ll pop a wheely just for you,” said Keith, opening the door.

“Oh god,” chuckled Lance. “Good night, Keith.”

“Good night, Lance.”

 

The door closed behind him, and Keith sighed. He pulled out Lance’s- _his_ jacket, from the bag and gave it a quick sniff.

It smelled like home.

 

Lance walked back into the living room, clutching what was now his favorite book in his hand. All his family member’s eyes settled on him, staring. “What?”

His grandma Ella stepped forward. “We know you love him, Lance.”

His ears burned, flushing red. “Whaaaaaaaaaaaaat, noooooooooo… he’s just my friend, he’s not even-”

“Lance.”

Stasia stepped forward, uncrossing her arms and hugging her younger brother. “It’s okay Lance. You don’t have to lie. We know.”

Lance sniffed, holding her tight and gripping her sweater in his fingers.

He always hated when she was right.

 

Keith walked up the stairs to the apartment, bag swinging against his leg. Keys jingling in his hand, he moved to unlock the door when he heard giggling on the other side.

_Is that Shiro?_

He unlocked the door and stepped inside, placing the bag on table, sliding off his coat and onto the back of the chair. “Shiro? You home?”

The lights in the living room were still dim, so he flipped the switch, turning them on all the way. He could now see two heads peeping up over the couch, one that was definitely Shiro, and the other…

“Oh, Keith! You’re home!” Allura jumped up from the couch, blushing a little. “Shiro, oh, Shiro, can we tell him?”

“Yes, sweetheart, but let him have a chance to relax.” Shiro got up from the couch, holding a small flute of champagne in his hand. “How was Lance’s family?”

“They were really sweet people. They made me do karaoke, it was wild,” he was still smiling as he remembered how much fun he had. He was putting on Lance’s jacket, his jacket, eyeing Shiro suspiciously. “Well don’t leave me hanging, what’s up?”

“Well, I uh,” he motioned for Allura to come to his side and wrapped an arm around her waist. “Allura and I are getting married.”

Keith blinked. “You’re what?”

“I got her father’s blessing and… I asked her.” Love filled his face when he looked at her, and while that was the happiest Keith had seen him, he wasn’t exactly throwing rose petals.

“You weren’t going to… I don’t know… _consult_ _me_ first?” asked Keith, feeling those dark thoughts creep against the back of his neck. He had been doing so well, and now all his fears were coming true.

_He’s leaving you alone._

_You’re nothing._

_He doesn’t care about you._

“Why would I have to consult you?” Eyes narrowed, Shiro crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.

Ouch.

“Maybe because I live with you? And I’d have to deal with… hearing you and this apartment is barely big enough for the two of us!”

“Well, we were thinking about getting a little house together. I mean, I’m ready to start a family, Keith.”

“Does that family include me?”

“Of course it does, Keith. Why would-?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Shiro, maybe because you’re talking about moving and starting a family as if you don’t have to look after me anymore, as if I’m not even fucking seventeen yet and still in school!” he shouted, baring his teeth. There was a fire in the pit of his stomach now, and god was it burning.

“Does she even know about my mom and dad? Does she even care that you’re all I have left?” he snarled, pointing a finger at her. _Does she care that she’s taking my family away?_

Shiro paled, moving a little in front of her. “Keith, I-”

“Does she even know about _Matt_?”

He crossed a line and he knew it. He watched Shiro’s face drop, immediately hardening in anger. “Don’t you _dare_ -!”

Anger spilled over, consuming him and his speech, making him say terrible things.

“Don’t pretend now Shiro. You were so in love with that man. Does she _know_ the love of your life died? That you were gonna marry _him_? She doesn’t know anything!” He turned to her. “You’re not the first, Princess. That’s probably his ring.”

“ _Stop_.”

“You were the _one_ person I thought would care, but then you left me for the war. What would have happened if you hadn’t come back? Do you even think about that? Dad didn’t want me, and Mom… well you know what happened, you _found_ her Shiro! You never wanted to take care of me! You just felt sorry for me.” It was a nuclear explosion of words, and Shiro and Allura were in the middle of the blast. “And now you have an excuse to get rid of me and send me to a foster home!”

 _He was never your family, you don’t deserve to be taken care of by anyone._ The voice was louder, more assertive.

“No, that’s not it at all, Keith. Why are you being like this?” asked Shiro, real concern in his voice. Keith was never this angry.

Keith stopped ranting, eyes widening and body freezing in place.

“I… I don’t know.”

With that, he turned and left, running out of the apartment,

 

Snow crunched under the heavy foot falls of his boots. It had to be after midnight, and the streets were surprisingly quiet. Keith didn’t know where he was going, or where he even wanted to go, but he spent the silence in his own thoughts, thinking about things. Mainly about Lance, and how much he loved him.

He threw the word ‘love’ around a lot, to be dramatic. Did he love Lance? Probably not. Did he think about Lance and his silly smile and the freckles on his shoulders and the stars he saw those deep blue eyes all the time? Yes. But the thought of loving Lance, really loving Lance, with his very soul bared for him to see? It scared him, because everyone he ever loved? They somehow found a way to leave. Keith couldn’t handle that. He always thought, before he realized his feelings, that high school was not the place for him to fall for someone, and never bothered broadcasting that he was gay or even looked around. What was the point of being with someone you could possibly leave? Keith wasn’t his mother, there would be no baby and he didn’t want Lance, or anyone he would have ended up with, to feel emotionally obligated to stay. And it was unfair of Keith’s mind-heart to make him fall for the person he couldn’t have, not because Lance was straight, (because he most definitely wasn’t), he was the most… unavailable. Like he didn’t need anyone to love him, because he was universally loved by most of the school, and his family, and Keith understood why. He was genuinely a good person, and not that fake nasty kind of person. So Keith would just be another admirer, or a best friend, like Hunk, or god forbid, a brother. Could he be content with that? He had been for the past two years (even if he wouldn’t admit it), why stop now?

It was hard to say, because it was just high school. But how often do you find people like Lance? People who exuded sunshine and had so much love in their heart, and didn’t seem phased by life. Whose laugh was like the sun and warmed his skin every time he heard it, or whose touch brought butterflies and ants and spiders and all sorts of insects Keith could think of to his stomach. Someone so beautiful, and caring and sweet and just… an angel, practically.

Demons didn’t deserve angels.

He turned onto a side street, coming up onto a park. The snow that settled onto the playground looked so serene, like the poster picture of childhood innocence or something cheesy that Keith didn’t care about. Nearly everything was covered, save for a bench underneath a large pine tree, seemingly unbothered by all the snow that surrounded it. He hopped the little wooded fence and walked over to it, sitting down. He pulled out his phone, checking the time. It was nearly one in the morning.

Not knowing if someone would be awake, he scrolled through his contacts, looking for someone to talk to. He felt the need to call someone, so he wouldn’t feel so alone, even though that was the reason he was out here in the first place. He didn’t really trust himself.

Pidge would talk to him, but she would scold him for mentioning her brother in such a way, and he just wanted an open ear.

The other two people in his contacts were probably arguing because of him, so that was a no go.

That left one person.

His thumb hovered over the call button in the frosty air.

 

“Hey Lance. Yeah. It’s me. I ran away.”

 

Keith had told Lance that he didn’t need him to come after him, but he did anyway, after he reluctantly gave him directions. The sound of footsteps crunching in the snow echoed through the empty park, and he was greeted with that familiar sun shine face.

“Is this seat taken?” asked Lance, sitting beside him.

“Hey.”

He sat back against the bench, watching Keith shiver. “Come here,” he told him as he stretched out his arm.

“No, I’m okay,” said Keith.

“No, you’re not. You’re freezing because you’re wearing a spring jacket in the middle of winter.” He looked him right in the eye, daring him to correct him. “Come here.”

Keith sighed, huddling against Lance and resting his head against his shoulder. Lance curled his arm around him, hand holding his arm.

“Feel better?”

“Yeah.”

Lance looked out to the street, staring at the street lamp and its orange glow. “So, what happened?”

The breath from his mouth misted in front of him as he moved to speak. “Shiro… asked Allura to marry him.”

“Oh. Congratulations?”

Keith glared at him.

“Not congratulations.”

He sighed, looking back at the snow. “She’s taking my only family away.”

“I don’t think he’s going to just leave you Keith.”

“Everyone leaves, Lance. You don’t even know...”

“Then tell me, Keith.”

 

“My mom didn’t do drugs and get sick. She had depression and killed herself.”

Boom. There it was.

A soft gasp escaped Lance, as Keith expected. It was pretty dramatic to just say, but that’s what happens when you lie in the first place.

Depression scared Keith, even when he barely understood it. No one really knew why people just had it. Sure, scientifically they could explain it, a chemical imbalance, yadda yadda. But the brain should be the last thing to get sick, and it was the only organ that literally told you to kill yourself. Why was the human body designed so that if you didn’t have a certain amount of a chemical, it malfunctioned in such a way that it caused you to literally self-destruct? The prospect alone was terrifying.

“Shiro was the one that found her, in a pool of her own vomit. She had been suffering for years, hurting herself. Kids used to joke about self-harm in middle school, but when you walk in on your mom with nicks on her wrist, it’s not so funny anymore.” Keith swallowed the lump that was forming in his throat. “After my dad left, I think that just broke her. She was expecting this happy, Home and Gardens life and she was stuck. She wasn’t so bad, but after I turned ten… I think she really realized, ‘this is my life’. The single mother of a kid, abandoned by the man that was supposed to be her husband, shunned by her parents, it wasn’t ideal. I was lucky that Shiro found me. I was seven and he was fifteen when he showed up at our door, saying he was my cousin. I was thankful to have a friend, since my mother, as neglectful as she was, wouldn’t really let me out of the house. I think, she was hanging on to my because I was the last tie she had to my father, but… I looked more like her. Then Shiro left for the army, and it was like I was alone. She had no interest in me. When she wasn’t working, she was in bed, sleeping the day away.

“I never used to think suicide was all that selfish. Stupid, maybe, but then again I didn’t understand depression. It eats away at you and convinces you that, somehow, you don’t need to live, that you won’t make an impact so why waste space? It’s a disease, just like anything else. But people don’t see depression as a disease. They see it as a scapegoat, an excuse. Something to blame. You want to die? Oh, well you’re just a freak.

“When my mother killed herself, I was at school. Shiro was already discharged, and came over to see her and that’s when I figured out firsthand how selfish it was. She left me, Lance. I didn’t ask to be her regret baby!”

Lance listened, not moving an inch.

“She didn’t care about seeing me grow, seeing me graduate high school, or go to prom,” he laughed bitterly. “She didn’t even know I was gay.”

“What was that?” asked Lance for the first time since Keith started talking.

“She doesn’t know her son likes boys. Can you imagine me, at thirteen, telling my depressed mother that I’m gay? God, I think she would have killed herself sooner.” Joking about it probably sounded terrible, but she was already dead, so who cared? He was bitter.

“I doubt she’d accept it. She would have wanted me to be the straight man, like my dad. I mean, knowing that, it’s hard to even like someone. I have this crippling fear of abandonment and it’s really hard to believe anyone will ever love me, because I’m scared they’ll leave. And now there’s this- this pestering voice and overwhelming feeling of absolute nothingness. I feel like I have no constants and my life is spiraling and I’m starting to think maybe hers is… hereditary.”

Was he really about to admit this?

“I’m just so angry and irrational and sad all the time, and it’s like, I feel empty when I shouldn’t be… and…”

_You can say it._

“I think I have depression too.”

He let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, waiting for Lance’s response.

Lance stared forward at nothing, not moving, not even his lips to speak.

 _I scared him. He’ll never talk to me again_.

“Keith, I’m glad you told me.”

Keith looked up at him, unsure if he heard that right.

“Why?”

“Because something like that is so hard to admit, and you have every right to be afraid of something that is like… a plague to you. I don’t know if that makes sense…” he trailed off, resting his head against Keith’s. “But you’re really brave. And, you’re not alone, you have Pidge, and me.”

“But for how long? She’s gonna go off to some liberal arts college, and I don’t even know what I want to do. I have to start over,” he paused. “And track season is starting, you won’t have time to talk to me and you can’t do the tutoring anymore.”

Lance chuckled. “That doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop hanging around you and stuff! Jeez, how many times do I have to tell you that we’re _friends_?”

“I figured that you’d just… give me up?”

“Now why would I do that? And don’t say it’s because I’m perfect, I swear to god.”

“You really don’t need to help me anymore, and you definitely don’t need me helping you. I thought you’d move on. Besides, you’re an angel and I don’t deserve you,” said Keith a matter-of-factly.

Wait…

_He thinks I’m an angel_ , thought Lance.

_Fuck me in the ass with a rubber goose why did I say that?_

“That’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard,” said Lance, smiling. “You know, you really shouldn’t sell yourself short, Keith.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” _AHHHHHHHHHHH!_

“You’ve got your own little halo there, I see it.”

_Oh my god, this cheeseball._

“It’s right…” He twirled his finger, moving it around until it landed on Keith’s chest. “Here.”

“On my nipple?” asked Keith, looking down.

“No, you fucking meatball, in your heart.”

“Angels have halos in their hearts?” he snickered.

“This one does,” Lance said, squeezing his arm. “Let me have this moment, okay?”

“Sure Lance.” Keith laughed into the crook of his neck. “Lance?”

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t leave.”

 

He wouldn’t dream of it.

 

“I won’t.”

Keith sighed in relief.

“But I have to take you home.”

“You are the devil,” Keith told him.

“Of course I’ll stay, just a little longer,” said Lance quickly.

Snow was starting to fall again, but it was just light dusting. They watched it fall, breathing in turn with each other, just content to be this close.

 

They walked back to Shiro’s together, in the still winter night. Lance noticed Keith’s shaking hands, and gave him his mittens, saying that “Shiro will kill me if I bring you home with frost bite.”

To past the time, Lance hummed and song a variety of Christmas songs, and somehow he got Keith to join him on “All I Want for Christmas is You”.

 

“It’s a classic man.”

“Fine.”

“ _I don’t want a lot of Christmas…_ ”

(Funny how both of them thought it summed up their feelings).

 

Keith hadn’t realized how far the park actually was until he was walking back to his apartment. He must have been really angry and walking really fast to get that far as quick as he did. But soon they were at the apartment door, and Keith had to face the judgement.

Lance went up with him to his apartment, standing outside and giving him encouragement.

“You got this okay?” He held his hands, looking him in the eyes. “All you have to say is sorry. I’ll be right here, I won’t let him-”

The door suddenly opened, revealing a no longer pissed off Shiro. “Keith?”

Lance spun around, letting go of Keith’s hands. “Hey Shiro. Um, Merry Christmas?” He stepped to the side, so Shiro could see his cousin.

“Keith, are you okay?”

Keith didn’t say anything, he just walked straight into Shiro’s chest and hugged him.

“I’m sorry.”

Shiro looked at Lance as if to ask “did you do this?” and Lance shook his head.

“Hey, buddy, it’s okay.” He hugged him back, and Keith sniffled. “I accept your apology.”

“Um, we really have to talk in the morning,” said Keith, and Shiro raised an eyebrow at him.

“If it’s about Allura, we already talked and-”

“No, it’s not about Allura. It’s… about me.”

“Oh, okay. Well, I think you deserve some sleep.” He patted his shoulder, and looked back up at Lance. “Thank you, for bringing him home.”

“It’s no problem,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“Oh, Lance, your mittens,” he reminded himself, starting to pull them off.

He stopped him. “No, keep them, they go well with my- your jacket.”

Shiro watched them with wide eyes. “Um, I’ll let you two say good night,”

Keith felt his face heat up.

Dammit Shiro.

“Thanks again, for tonight.”

“Oh, man, it’s no problem. An angel has to earn his wings somehow, right?” he winked.

“Oh my gooooood.”

“It was funny,” Lance defended. “Well, I’ll see you. There might be a New Year’s Eve party, I’m not sure yet. But I’ll let you know- OOF!”

Keith took the jump and hugged him.

And it was just as good the second time.

“Um, good night. Again.”

“Yeah, night. Right.”

Keith closed the door, and Lance stared, still stunned.

 

“Hey Stasia? Yeah, it’s Lance. Keith is safe, and I _really_ gotta talk to you…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... I tried to draw a parallel between depression and ADHD, because I have both, and it's something that... is a really weird struggle. I wanted to show the struggles of both, and the misunderstanding of them as well, and I hope it made sense. This chapter took at least a year of my life holy crap.
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I will see you in January. :)
> 
> "como guapo cuándo es la boda?” - "He's cute, so when's the the wedding?"  
> “No, abuela, solo es un amigo.” - "No grandma, he's just a friend"  
> "Que lastima." - "That's a shame."


	6. An Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY.

So, I've been in bootcamp for the last 4 months. It's a long story but I'll be home in a few weeks so please be patient as I work on my updates for both this fic and Fire Meet Gasoline. I've been writing and a started some more projects that you guys will love. I'll have plenty of time as my knees heal.

 

thank you guys for supporting me.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Leave a comment and let me know what you think! :)
> 
> Hit me up at: mr-mustache-penis.tumblr.com


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